July 5, 2012

poem 217 of a poem a day for 2012

alpha wave slaves in the mechanical mastery of rust

we have been scouting real estate
outside of Eden ever since
we first laid down on our backs
and looked up at the stars
with reach in our eyes

even if we ever find a place
that would have the frenzied
pace of our loose handed grip
would we have grace enough
to say thanks and not race
the ripples to cages
in the rages
of planting flags
and crooked lines
in the dirt
that say maps
are here to keep
the dead alive
of possession

would we still have
an obsession to know
how tight we can
bind ourselves
to parasitic divinities
all with the names of knots
and fair games to be played
in a wink and a nod
to what words don’t
ever have to say
for us to know
that what we all seek
is that surrender
without a fence
with just enough light
to burn beauty
into the ash-turns
of silhouettes and smiles
and to hold wishes
looking up at the stars
pouring their songs
onto the bubbled hisses
we call the kisses
of our modernity
and humanity
washing upon the shores
that dreams wander off to


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