2014 #158

abandoned, they left me in this lean
so these twigs and weed leaves taunt and taint
these teeth and I am a display
whose caste is less than the messages
front yard signs whisper from their stakeout
stations. Ponder. Yes even a rake
rust has spread brown spots of age
upon stills finds it natural
to ponder while still acting as

a community beauty
contributor but still I am display
and a stick stuck in idle
and protestants infest these corridors
where codes cross their legs but bounce
in instruction anticipation
and regulatory inches
are happily hammered all day
and all night all the week


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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