Jigsaw by J.M. Romig, Amanda Whitlock, and Ryan P. Kinney
The first time I watched a man die It wasn’t a man anymore, they told me Just like my mother wasn’t my mother anymore
I will never forget the wrong answer And the empty hours When the minute hand was always longer
I often welcome sleepwalking through most of the week In the few instances the machines malfunction I curse being awakened
I don’t see how anyone Can smoke at a time like this When the air is so heavy It’s like breathing cement
I’m in stressed and panicked misery And I’m vomiting Lots and lots of stuff That stretches vast And expands to eat up everything
The guilt of my sin The heft of your innocence Weighs heavily on my soul As i drag you down with me
Her lit cigarette burns So brightly from the porch Against the darkness It reminds me of a lighthouse Or a bug zapper
And what is that moth doing there anyways? People are trying to sleep
www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2Zvg9-fnw0
This was part of a project called Jigsaw, where several poets deconstructed pieces of their various works and recombined them into another work. Below is the description for the project. If you wish to participate, please message me or leave a comment.
Jigsaw involves taking pieces of several writer's poems and arranging and working them into a new piece. Patchwork is a similar concept where each writer in a group come up with one stanza (of varying themes) and the whole group works the piece together. Jigsaw is pre-existing content recreated into a new piece and Patchwork is original content. Both projects involve a whole group of writers working a new piece together.