Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
a bond between one and another, sinking in my back and curling through the stomach, pouring out the front, pouring into champaign glasses, on and on and on, at a party with different kinds of hats.  wishful thinkers, doing what they do best, making conversation that is pleasant, without a worry in the world, a stitch in the fabric of time

this group of people, have their white cloth and their pretty talk, think themselves the center of the universe, and why shouldn't they be?  the words have meaning, and the theories discuss take on a myriad of expressions and history

and at the same time, in the same instance, there is poverty, what of that thing?  clay pots and water that is cherished every day, brought in the daily bucket, brought in with heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat, drum drum, drum drum

A system systematically serenading itself with rhythms changing clockwork calculated nonsense

indifferent to itself, fluctuating frequently, standing still

quiet on top of an owls den, hooting its own demise at the wrong time

pass it on?  keep it alive?

drum, drum drum, time, time time
Hurt LockerFeed Birds
Written by
Hurt LockerFeed Birds  25/M/San Francisco
(25/M/San Francisco)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems