words would
flutter or flap
on imprecise wings
and fly
through the cotton-white
air of a page,
but for these
pegging their insistence;

a marching army,
in strident patriotism
(like Kurosawa’s Ran)
each land
adapting, adopting
with standards raised.

Behold !
the declamatory philippics
of bold French exclamation !

subsumed in repressed
grass, see how the English,
excepting odd Wolfe,
lurk (O! how they lurk!)

as a schlager duel
slashes greetings
to a salutary German…
Lieber Kurt!

assisting a sarcastic turk(!)


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