So You Took Away D, E, and I
a lipogram after Mark Dunn’s Ella Minnow Pea
you scorn folks
who fought for a song
your own trauma tugs
turns on a lark,
turns back clocks.
now you fray cloth,
gnaw as a moth,
grasp collars,
gray from a gasp,
wrung out by a goal
you opt not to know about.
you, you club of snowy boys
(or gals), now common ghosts, a mortal horror.
but.
our happy stays
sancrosanct.
my ally hangs fast.
you cant stomp out
cultural joy
or stop buoyant
whoops
from skysoar.
you cannot put out
our
lamps.