Well, when you write a poem in the shower, it tends to be rough and need reworking. I edited yesterday’s poem in my sleep and when I woke up the poem had decided to morph into more of a prose-type poem. Then I decided to post it somewhere that has a character limit, and so I had to edit it down and tighten it some more. I think that was for the better. This is still rough, as poems written in the shower and edited in sleep will be; but sometimes I like seeing how other people’s work evolves, and so I thought I’d post how this one is evolving. fwiw

Tinder by tinder — arranging everything to his desires — mounding his detritus — in the middle of the living room floor — placing each of his toys — wrapping them in half truths — oh how he loved toying with them ploying with them — yet sacrificing one for the other — such was his caring, love — pulling the strings puppet master — cutting the strings one by one — & wondering why — these puppets no longer danced — standing admiring his workings — turning viewing his domain — everything his — loving everything so — so-so — lighting matches — no! no! — striking striking — fingers burning — fading sparks falling closer closer — standing pausing — over — everything his wanting — gasoline splashing — pouring striking dropping exploding — blazing glorious conflagration — flames soaring roaring — standing back crying wailing — never intending never suspecting these flames! — blaming the match for the fire — burning down his house — everything his

1 Comment

  1. Potent poeming, M. So many good lines in there. I really like these:
    “cutting the strings one by one — & wondering why — these puppets no longer danced”
    He sounds like a force to be reckoned with.

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