We can cut out Nemesis’s tongue
By omission or simple analysis.
Doesn’t this sin have to marry
Another, like a wishbone
Worked into meat, to grow
Deadly? Snared within
The blood’s quick night,
Our old gods made sex
& wit, of nitrate & titanium,
Hurl midnight thunderbolts
& lightning. Are we here
Because they must question
Every death in an alley,
Every meltdown? We know
We wouldn’t be much, if thorns
Didn’t drive light into wet blooms.
✅ Do you like the article “Anger” by Yusef Komunyakaa on Poemfull.com? If so, don't forget to share this post with your friends and family ♡ !
