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Call of the wild

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Call of the wild

Call of the wild

We talkspeak and nothing much is 
said until a bright spore spot spawns
and gets a seed for sale—compliant
of brotherly love passions filler like dirty
socks in a hamper  forgotten   we keep in tepid touch
but do the “tweens” ever meet to
justify the ends – need the knot
best tied. Sometimes the curtains
are pulled and drawn--do you know
who what when where we aren’t—and the
right manhole cover that will fit, you 
know when the carpet fibers are all 
going in the same direction?  I keep the faith
in plentitudes for lasting hope of a brothermode
lust karma where the void is moleculed  in
semiosis---so words that fret deep are cured
in a mindful vocabulary of card-bored achieve-
ment. Leave the baggage or at least check it
in so the load is light and the trip tarries
long   but easy. Mute the long differences in and
cast the polyester aside--give garbage credit
were it’s due and leave the spider nest so
well webbed-you owe yourself the un-union dues
you’ve paid—garner some objective free fromdom
and put yourself in a life so 
short  only true abandon will fit, once
it’s gone no matter of factness trying will recov-
compensate over empty-end of sentence flounder. When
each cheek is continually slapped with lazy
dupedity the fuse is up from head
battering bleed ins, soulful suicide sacrifices
rot the root and close the bloom of the
extension umbilical cord—sewer injustice due to
lack of love funds account closed—let us break the
cyclopattern and re route the threadbare infr-
struck sure so reminiscent that we open a new 
chapter in ripe blood resolutions that shake down
the predicted familial foundations and
project the unspoken long left unsaids-give us a
face slap so the eyes stay clear and the heart 
sounds pure, simple over the voice wire. Take some 
needed refuge in my critical solice and rest you
fragile frame for a sublime stopover  and only
keep time with your peace pace, head on straight
and no peeking from a shoulder stance
of accustomed living   burdened.  Together we
can make a full couple glass, as only the years can
evaporate our standard---should the glass
become half emptyfull when the 
poignant pitcher with no handle no 
bottom  lifes  pour-less to infect and
presuppose a new conjecture on a 
benign  brother whose lost in the shuffle
with a badly drawn  inverbatim scrabble 
shelfhand of catlitter consonants-----------------------------------Pass?

Copyright © Dave Collins

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  1. Date: 5/7/2013 2:25:00 PM
    Yes, words came thick and fast and formed a beautiful yet powerful piece. Enjoyed reading your poem.

  1. Date: 5/7/2013 6:23:00 AM
    Some great alliteration used in this one..Sara