Dream Chipper
June 29, 2009
Run my dreams
through the chipper
down the chute –
into the hole.
Cover this bootless
pile with
lye
gravel
dirt
seed.
The green blades will bend
beneath my shiny shoes:
I toss the kids into the air
they float down like elm seeds.
the wife
watches
from her
windows
Put me
on the train
clickity clack
clickity clack.
Run the tunnel
ride the shaft
bury me in a prolapsed mine
of glass and steel.
the boss
watches
from his
windows
I kneel in church
and stare at the bodies before me.
(I traded my soul
for these marching boots.)
We half believe
something
bigger is
watching.
I am frozen
in a pious pose.
2004
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Posted in authoritarianism, brainwashing, conformity, poem, Poetry, soul, spirit | 5 Comments »
July 8, 2009 at 7:27 pm
Wow, I really dug this qaze. It flowed for me well.. run the tunnel, ride the shaft, bury me twenty stories…trade my soul for marching boots.
yep…good.
k
July 10, 2009 at 1:40 am
dear kim, thank you. it is an angry poem – i like it too.
July 12, 2009 at 5:16 pm
no problem. i loved it.
k
July 14, 2009 at 7:16 am
this deserves rereading after rereading!
July 15, 2009 at 2:39 pm
thank you!