The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Rockets to the Heart

Your rockets strike like enwoodened nails
that hold my sagging weight
injustices dripping from my history
neither master nor brother be
nor neighbor neither father
unfriending, I flint my face 
at your decadence and utter decay
I maraud your streets and 
kidnap your men's courage
for we are the grains of ochre
and we shall not permit 
the surfeit of your boot.
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