Raleigh D. Meadow
Reality’s Blade
365.26 scorpions,
the sting of another revolution.
Cobwebs h
a
n
g
from aband d dreams,
as the young eagle flails,
in an old pigeon’s talons.
b o
Outside, excuses skip a u, taunting.
t
A loquacious lot they are,
full of themselves,
and curdled scapegoat’s milk.Yet truth has gnawed off my index fingers.
It is I alone,
left to swallow the sword.
