Sunday, August 23, 2015

POEM: "Far more crap than"

"Far more crap than"

Far more crap than 
I can shake a stick at
knowledge and poems
don’t help flush away

Point, shout all you like
many won't be looking
it could be true, wanting
but listening like a bird

Bend, twist everything
that includes the strange
shaped by anything, we–
I try to relax and breathe

Sound waves, light waves
exit through the gift shop
over the fence, down the lane
all goes through the mirror.

© 2015 Rob Schackne

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