november 2018 poeming: day two
claiming the inches before breaking
wandering the televised corridors
witless, we sang of our defeats
despite the overwhelming means
the desperate race to greatness
whether we wanted the ends or not
we will be given them; burnt
and sundered, a faceless means
and all that means is that we grieve
every day and for the rest of our days:
the bursting aorta of all our love
yesterday's poeming can be found on my tumblr. (which is the public feed of my private instagram.)
I gave myself some leeway and used a photo from last night with today's poem. nobody said I had to use a photo from today: hence the inspiration for the first line here! when I first started writing, I thought the repeated word would be 'nobody,' but it ended up needing to be 'means.' the poem writes itself, sometimes.
the poem writes itself, indeed.