Undoing the cleat

The
SNARE of my soul’s Enemy is a misshaped
CHUNK of metal pinned on one side to me, like a
CLEAT that joins me to him. Praise God for the
TURBO jet power of Jesus Christ to release me!

Scamping at the Dump

SCAMPing at the dump in a polka-dot
SHIRT and red plaid skirt,
(CLASHing in more ways than one)
Yet no one sane would
REBUT her claim to all she unearthed and won: such as a

SNARE for critters looking like new; a
CHUNK of styrofoam busted in two; a
TURBO pipe all rusted through; plus a dirty old
CLEATed soccer shoe (pee-yew!)

Two days’ worth

The
youngest SCAMP is AMONG those who have to
HALVE their SHIRTs (a bet) in order to join the
CLASH with the superior OUTGOing team:
‘REBUTting the GULCH’ is the name of this contest.

Unpolished

REBUTting you: yes, I am often late, I wear novelty T-
SHIRTs, I forget to pay bills. But why cite these? Why
CLASH? I am yours, wholly loyal. I do not glorify my faults. That
SCAMP you were with before was polished-and what was he worth?

Reverse Ezekiel 47

AMONG residents realization sickly takes hold: the land is dying: dry
GULCHes, reservoirs down three quarters, allotments cut. To
HALVE prior expectation now looks good. A reality so stark, you blink and blink, yet it’s still there:
OUTGO far above inflow. Praying for rain is all that’s left. And what of spiritual water? How high the levels?