I am a corrupted form poem
tonight I am in
my notebook
black ink pen
not a medium point bic
like it used to be
but a useful roll
just the same
stealing time here
after midnight
has always been
my favorite way of
remembering
how I used to write
all my poems
like this
like ribbons from
an old ticker-tape machine
clickety-click, clickety-click
jiggity-jig, clickety-click
clickety-clack, jittery-jit
jittery-jot, clickety-click
jottery-jit, clottery-pot
the lotteries of buzz
and whistles
and cranks
and steam pulley levers
all triple x
as the fountains
are spilling coins now
spilling candy too
the words
don’t seem
to matter as much
as the bullet stain of
their emotion
where the entrance and
the exit wounds are
on the body of work
that begins to stiffen
towards the end
of the poem
that is just
another kind of death
another till
another closure line
read off
with a couple
of sewn holes twined
to a smile
as it is
just another way
this form
of poem is
as corrupted
as I am
as I am
as I am
EJR ©
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