Shall I Compare Thee to a Winter’s Day
Thank you, Will Shakespeare
shall I compare thee to a winter’s day
thou art more cold and icy than the snows
rough words come clanging as the pay
off, red hot anger in your face shows
season’s sun as frozen; that’s your lot –
nor your eyes ever named like stars
the listener must recoil at every shot –
gentle rain descends in lashing spars
explicit rage engorges your infernal
wrath and accusations that persist –
the blame is written in eternal
laws. Can none of this be kissed
away, the leafless, bud-less tree stakes
pale skies, blood-red thunderous quake