Untitled Poem

Another one from the vaults, written on September 11, 2009.

The spiders have spun webs between our fingers
So long has it been since we
Picked up a tool
or
Curled up a fist
or
Caressed each other

We sit or lie,
Reposing endlessly,
Reacting against the imagined pressure of nothings
Simply lacking the volition to move

The screens before us stutter with light,
At times our eyes flick back and forth across them,
But less frequently as time passes

We can no longer feel our feet,
Cannot tell that the rats gnaw our toes

Our stomachs no longer rumble,
Having finally accepted that we are not listening

Our knees and elbows are rusted into place,
Our hips and shoulders will not rotate

Our genitals are swollen with imagined lusts,
But no consummation will ever return to them.

Perhaps one day, the dust that settles upon us
Will make us sneeze
And we will be either broken or arisen,
Powered by the dormant force from within us

One thought on “Untitled Poem”

  1. I love how the trees
    Romance in the breeze
    Their lives are so
    They make us feel
    Like all the world is a dream
    We love and we cry
    We sway and they sigh
    And all the time we know
    They all sing a song
    And so we belong
    In the future
    Wherever we fall

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