poem 98 of a poem a day for 2012

the mechanical organics of my bad husbandry

primal

bestial

what fills

the pollen fields

at twilight's

cut rust bleeding of light

last night at the open mic

someone's poemed

memory glowed

of an old factory fire

that claimed too many 

as part of the hazards

of employment

no this poem is not

condemnation

of those conditions or

the paper thin renditions of

scrabble-scrubbed

industrialized humanity

being squeezed

for 5 pence pieces

and their ease at being crowded 

in the crow noised streets

heralding change

from above

and below

the horizons

of seen

and unseen

no this poem is about

letting go as I did

of anything that smelled

of anger or regret

for curling myself in

a sleepy smile

of I like this

I'll see you

in the morning

but I didn't

press save

I only felt

the empty of a poem

that was not there

at Dawn

because I didn't

press save

I only felt

the empty

of the poem

that was not there

my work last night was

all the bones

I had chewed smoothed

to fit with my skin and flesh

stretched tight this morning

threshed with the seeds

that hold a morning

to what this poem was

supposed to be

another bridal veil

to ride for some time

in the elements

that chaos designs

with traced fingered finds

in the parts of me

I want written to be

before she might

loosen herself

upon this world

for everyone

to dance a kiss with all

the parts of her

that sometimes

or not

remind me

of me

and to stay here

in every right now

I can

and not to be

so disappointed

because the blank white screen

and the plain brown paper

unwrapping of today

says you have to

dig more

Edward

and explore why

in other ways

and tell yourself

at least 

you remembered

the title

EJR ©