Glittering shrapnel claws deep in my mind,

embedding vicious thoughts caught in my hands

like a virus,

like a child leaping into my arms,

like a newspaper thrown against my door by a brat.

Why can’t I expel the mental graft and gristly slander

that permeates myself?

Does gold feel worthless when desperate divorcees toss

it in the sea

to forget?

To remember rage?