Alex Kramskaya

Send yourself rip-roaring through me

why don’t you?

Rip-Roaring! Tearing through my

        delicate, delicate, skin.

Snarling, growling, mouth agape –

A bull in a china shop never made a sound

        As the final glass tipped.

           Sending me sprawling

                 Clawing at straws on fire

                 Dante himself could not hope to imagine

                 Such horrors as these.