Coming to terms with
the limited helpfulness of this poem

.original poetry & images.

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    If only this poem
Could wash my dishes

Instead of giving me
      A grim tattoo.

A barcode
     For a product
          In the estimation
               Of corporate hierophants
               Ecstatic with the fumes of profits

The girders of their meeting rooms
Are my dendrites & invisible sighs,

And also, my "laugh-until-I-cries."

                               If only this poem
Could make me two-dimensional

Instead of a rollicking paper plane.

Then I would become the glitched avatar
                 Seen by compatriots & travelers

                   (Fickle image - crazed minotaur
                and a bolt of silk tumbling,
            Tumbling, down the stairs
       Of this insubordinate
   Beast poem & daughter
To the carrot light
Of dusk.)

If only this poem
Would say what it really feels

                Instead of allowing me
To check it out from the library
And magnify feverishly the margin notes
Scribbled by some poor soul come before:

            To come to nothing wholly tangible
But the enjoyment of the tenuous
    And the willingness
        To wash my own dishes.

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Written by
@d-pend
3/15/18

.
Photos taken with
iPhone 5 & edited.
.
Steemit School
Discord link

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