A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Authority

I'm having a hard time with this poem. It's
a bit on the rigid side. Inflexible, the rhyme
schemes against me, and wins. Wins, if I'm not
mistaken. I don't know how to make it looser,
make it work, work in my favor. Hell, it's in its
own favor I want to make it work! But me

and this poem

do not see eye to eye on what its own
best interest is. I, however, am author. Therefore
I will crush its little petulancies and insubordinations
down, I will pull the splinterlike wires of infelicitousness
out from its skin (where they somehow got stuck, running along
just under like a horror movie) and daub its pinprick wounds
with fizzy antiseptic, which is called I forget what, applied
with cotton balls. Daub, daub. Pink and white in sharp scent
of wet alcohol, or peroxide. One of those two will do
the trick. Then,

Smack my hands together, rubbing up heat and warmth from
friction, fire my inner eye and apply firm, kneading
pressure to the points and joints of this poem, moving
muscle masses and reshaping fat, slapping and twisting,
cracking chiropractorily, bones askew then re-skewed
and there you are: feel like a new man, don't you?

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