December 9, 2012

poem 449 of a poem a day for 2012

beach combing skies, an untitled empty 

Goodyear rubber
Is exploitation and
planned obsolescence
in a plantation mentality
meeting the road
becoming an ever-
open sore

for sale
moves paper
files each day
a yellow ended
dog ear
a digitally enhanced
fuzzy memory
a collated payment
receiving value
nailed to skin
and labor
to birth time
to kill time
to wind time
to the very ends
of fingernails

swabbing DNA
beneath them
you might find
specked humanity
like golden turn keys
of Sun when Winter
is supposed
to cover everything
in a slow lattice run

but here is where
markets get murky
with motivations
and survival mechanisms
the angry
exhales of the seas
claw a return claim
wearing the laps
and lashes
unchaining the land
a raw skinny womb
in folded decay
in sharp angles
and tinsel jingles

whirring tires
cover a quiet
desperate thirst
for more
of something
no one can quite
define outside
of attainment
of a bargain’s
or margin
of morality
comforting enough
to live a ghost life
waiting, wading
in blank pages
and warm tides
in a chant
that sounds
like your name
being called
as an answer
to a question
not spoken
out loud


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