Split Wide, Writ Large

You thought poetry was about expressing emotions?
Not dead wrong; maybe half-right/wise.
Poetry is war,
and we’re on the wave
of a big one;
be blessed.
You thought poetry was about fiat Federal Reserve Notes?
Well, hell, I guess such currency is useful for what it’s worth.
Mostly it should be spent
on whips and other weapons
with which to chase
all the traitors
from the temple
this time around.
Poetry is the blood on your hands,
in our veins,
upon stained pages.

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