The Rape of a Semi-Colon

Such a  
n i c e    
day to write  
so blue sky uncomplicated  
cloud free and bright  
until that sassy little semi-colon  
took a wiggle on the wrong page  
  
Doo-dahing innocence in a skimpy skirt  
lost in the darkest part of town  
decked out as pert as a bud  
teasing her dainty derriere  
believing poetry could only
step out to shine  
  
But sulking in the shadows  
of the meanest kind  
a bunch of hyphens  
sit itchy for the ride  
bored and bold    
and doubled up hard    
growing twitchy    
for the end of their lines    
  
They wear back to front caps  
brasher than knuckle burrs after a fight--  
nobody muscles on their turf  
These guys play tough  
they know how to whistle    
when a lady walks by  
but today    
they hide  
lurking near a clump of adjectives  
camouflaged by nouns  
breathing getting heavier    
muttering murder    
from the margins of crime
  
Miss Semi-Colon  
never knew she had an ass  
but she screamed    
when they jumped her
and spread it wide  
taking turns to slap
until she cried
  
So they stuffed her panties  
in her mouth  
ground her face in ink  
told her--  
Shut the fuck up  
made her hurt    
even worse than rhyme    
  
And now    
she's just a half-ass    
little comma
a speck of shit
cast to one side