Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches

The Canons

They aim their tarnished cannons,
Precisely read outdated canons
Aloud to the masses;
As I sit upon grass
Fingering a dry pistol
That chased away ants,
Hydrated daisies,
Stung the burned backs of fleeing,
Tearful children echoed happiness --
Trapped laughter hung on tree limbs,
Detached by gentle, carefree breezes sending higher
Solubles to the blue patches and white drifters inhaling,
Until grey-black unload their h2o pellets like bombs upon a
Silenced planet. Groggy, a sobering sun emerges, dries
The scene where we return to play, after hours listening
To the interrupted radio bemoaning a world somehow in decay.

I sit my tenderness upon the fertile ground, shadowed
By black-rust cannons, as incited canons obtrude,
To wonder upon a glaring, misunderstood sun
And ask, 'why must it be this way?'


5.26.21
6.5.21 edit

Loosely applied logic to the world we live in today (History teaches us...history teaches us?). Is it so uncivilized that we've forgotten how to play?

I wrote this in under ten minutes. Another five to edit. Done. Really worked hard to get obtrude in there, thought not sure if syntactically correct?