The thrust
of your argument
is bladed
and already slick with my blood
from the last time I failed
to dodge quickly enough.
The point
of what you want to say
is barbed,
and if I respond,
it will catch in my mouth
and hook my cheek;
you will land me
with an easy pull,
as you always do —
it’s just that some time,
you will run out
of straw men to burn,
and you will pick me up
as the next piece of kindling,
without a second thought.
