Barbed Wire

Your plastic exterior never fit

and neither yarn nor filament will leave the impression of a fossil

in the baked mud.

Flexible, the current flinches

while hydraulic power plants pump fluid

through seals of oil & bolts.

Ornamental pain worn like a spray of jealousy from a hose,

painting a halo over the bust of Michelangelo.

Reel it in, it takes too long to run,

dragged by an anchor low through iron railings.

The guards skin figures by the gate.

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Free Verse Friday 11.21.14

Thin wire forms, blasted apart by grinding horns, bit by bit, byte by byte. Progressive precision, torrentially assertive. Creeping, lifting, happily engineering the most uncomfortable connections.  An icon besmirched, scandalized, immortalized in latex.

Traveling o’er rooftops systematically merging with motorcycles, engines gunning, he dances a jig. The gossiping, whispering tell-tale signs of hens, clucking and strutting their awkwardness, grudgingly relenting to an unwelcome touch on the shoulder.

The bleating of farm animals and heady stink of the barnyard, you can’t drive it away with simple clamps wearing gloves. Brushed by industrial transmission, rocketed to heights hoisted heavily Heavenward.

He dies.

Free Verse Friday

Abrasive, cut like a diamond, flexing muscles imprinted like a brand on beef cattle

Stuffed like a sausage in its casing, linked to all the others, lined up for the slaughter

Cold, hard cash, frozen like tundra, judge, jury and executioner, you own your bliss

Your soul heavy, dark beams of light falling like Autumn leaves, the theater of your mind cold, all your heat dispersed in sheets

Sipping from the juice box, seal broken, excuses fabricated under the influence of electric pharmaceuticals

A national crisis, corporate controlled distribution of razor blades to slash brake lines

Listening to the clipping of fingernails, waiting for each successive CLICK to echo through my head, bile rising in my throat

Nothing works, the process grinds to a halt, anger bubbles, ripples to hold more guacamole dredged from the bottom of your alloy lined raincoat pockets

Mistakes made, ghosts in the snow, records spinning, give away all the sounds

Hollow eyes, pretending colors are following your written rhymes, trying to show signs of industry

Information sewn into the splitting sofa cushions, a sectional moving like a race car driver

Flames blooming after a laser precision strike, glowing like morning, time seems to stop, apartment walls giant and cavernous

Fin