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Friday, May 30, 2014

You

you...
you are the poem
in the woods
that no one could write
so you fell
upon deaf ears
and silenced periods
doleful
fragmented prophet-less paraphrases
laying open ended
coma-ed commas
malpracticed lullabies
suture black and blue veins
pumping saline salutations
penned revelations
and you die slow
perish in parchmental maybe’s
respirated only by the margins
opposed non-fiction
pushing through rigor
you...
you are the poem
no one could write
so, you’re scribbled
scratched out to the fine print
the undisclosed closure of the masses
loose leaf bound
leatherette lies of the moment
unbroken spine
relation undefined
trading life lines
for time lines
on living walls
of mundane hashtags
pounded
ground into recycled carbon data
mined to millions served
you...
you are the poem
no one could write
toe-tagged in albums
long forgotten
algorithm permitting
they poke
or click “like”
sharing a part of you
they never cared to know
instead of quilling
breath to amity

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