September 29, 2012

poem 346 of a poem a day 2012




harvesting pent up emotional lahars

where first you go to the poem
in the bend crawled thirst
at river side neck side enthralled
ready at the burst ripe
we eat this kind of display
the flaming out of life
caught on camera now
instead of memory
our brains are scattered
in Rorschach designs
across the windshield
we are driving the stakes
and taking the hearse
to where the heart
won't matter anymore
and our souls are
pole flat bottom boating
to where no poem comes
from what we have been fed
to be bled to the surface
quick strike lead to hammer
dead ringer and the requisite apologies
on the eleven o’clock news
propaganda machine
desensitizing us until the lean
and fat are separate entities
from the bone and
we are curled up fetal ends
in the hot bath of molten mud
that frames the yearn completely
as we want at near the speed of sound
our cries are burned beyond
recognition and all that is left
is the shape of what we used to be
bodies, souls, love and desire

EJR ©


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