A letter lay lonely in the hall.
Worthless wicked words which do not pall
as I reread the rancorous rant
of the cross caterwauler who can’t
forget foolish follies of the past
or bury boorish barbs he has cast.
I parse his words printed on paper.
My grudging good grace turns to vapor.
I tear the turgid tissue to shreds
then take a few tranquility meds.
My neurotic nerves no longer curled
all is again a-one with my world.
(Written for dVersePoets, “Bang, Bang, Bang—Crash!” July 11, 2013.)