Letters jumbled together to make some sort of sense.
Until they don’t.
Some make you sit up straight, late at night, tense.
Go away, they won’t.
Some are favourites, warm and welcome.
Others are demanding.
A smattering of words you’ll see seldom.
Many are descriptive waterfalls of meaning.
They drop delightfully.
A few unlock secrets and ideas gleaming.
They drop frightfully.
Sentences and words arranged not from simplicity.
There to baffle you.
Newspapers spew words of publicity.
“Words can’t hurt you.”
The toxicity of a word’s elasticity.
Yes, they FUCKING can!
Ferociously delivered weapons of choice.
Venomous sounds.
All the way at you as one voice.
Good old words.
AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC - ACTON28.BLOG 