Morpheme Mutiny

mangled metaphors

left me


with doubt as they forsook

picket fences

for split rails

they stumbled far afield

where they wander, limping

out from under my skirts

around the outskirts

of my forlorn village

striking poses

of vaunted dignity.

they leapt with alacrity

unbefitting of their ancient

weary souls

firing afterburners

as they shot the moon.

they worked diligently

those valiant metonymies

labored and strained

as they strove to build a future

that could not be contained

in a house of brick and mortar

big bad wolf notwithstanding.

they stumbled on debris

littered from existence

discovered the prophesied prosperity

 a preposterous prevarication.

now they dodder

as drunks or toddlers

on those picket lines

signs of the times

dragging bedraggled signs

indisputably protesting

catachrestically catatonic

marching to the beat

of a tone deaf drummer

of adumbration bereft