Armory (2)

Bits fall off 

A tip velociting across the salle 

Spring in jubilant pursuit 

A clip that decompiles in the very 

Middle of the bout 

Tape shreds 

Wires break 

Screws split 

Set aside this injured weaponry awaits 

A therapeutic touch 

At least these mechanical defects 

Can be repaired 

MY bits deconstruct almost as often 

Shedding parts and 

Shredding key connections 

Torn and bent and stretched too far to 

Rebound 

Technically these biologic parts 

Might heal on their own 

But even odds they’re simply settled in an 

Altered state 

Demanding adaptation 

Is it any wonder that I want the best of both?

Snap-on parts that interchange 

With just a bit of fiddling and force 

The ease of healing that will come with time 

Regardless of attention 

Let’s try it out— One blade left in the bag (don’t peek!) 

For seven weeks to see if it will heal 

One finger sternly told to snap in place and 

Hold the line 

Yeah,  I’ll tell you how that goes

Bladeyard

Each fragment holds a story, frozen in the moment it gave way

Damaged in defense

Assassinated in assault

Tip snapped

Forte fractured

Foible frozen in a baneful bend

This ferric archive, weighty

Evidence of effort,

A metal count more meaningful than

Competition bling

I can't throw them away

Feeling too much empathy

Gratitude for touches they amassed

Conscious that

We all of us are

broken by our art 

White Light

Perhaps the barrel has

Unwound

Righty-tighty

Or, it's filled with

Crud

Ream it out with cotton swab and

Hooch

The teeniest of screws, the ones that clasp the

Tip have

Wiggled loose

Grab a microscopic tool and

Snug them down

The nuts that clutch the wire in the socket

May be

Lax

The grip a trifle

Slack

The prongs may wobble in the plug the wire may be

Nicked the body cord fershlugina the reel perhaps

Verclempt

All plausal possibilities…

I think this ample impetus, collectively

To learn the gentle art of armory