Saturday, December 20, 2014
Reboot In The Face
Next to the Last Straw
Now I have to paw through all my possessions,
Now, when I finally had everything organized,
I have to find something else to burn.
Of course it's ridiculous! It's old, I'm old,
I'm cold, yes, bones grind but I don't see a spark.
What on earth am I supposed to destroy this time,
I ask you? This old thing? This wrinkled garment
Wrapped my vanity for years. It's fit to go up
With a real whoosh. Can't you smell
All the molded petroleum woven into its warp?
The children's sweat spun into its weft?
I don't see enough here to conjure wings,
Not out of this rag, but if this is what
You command, gold from straw,
Bricks without it, I'm powerless.
Photo: The Rockford Files.