The gavel swings
with might and industrious density
forging profit from the iron
shavings, likely harvested from the
drooping boughs of an uneven hierarchy.
Wood striking metal striking
hearts of gold,
tearing up
official documents and identification
issued by Uncle Sam. There are no people in the
obituary column, there are only lost profits.
Karen reads the funny pages,
Tommy asks for butter.
Mommy hides in darkness, swathed in
the depressive spectrum.
Daddy, bearing the full yoke of responsibility
tries to batten down the hatches
with nine inch nails and bleeding feet.
One last guilty pleasure, thumbing through
the paper leads
to Gemini's horoscope.
The black and white print reads:
Withdraw from the rat race,
lest your mind be made to fear
disapproving managers
and time not spent with family.
Way to be the first to dive in!
Good use of the words, you even got the Golden seed.
Cheers!
Thanks :D
Took some time but the words spoke to me
Consider adding up to 5 tags so your post shows up in more places.
#creativity #poem #contest
hm thanks, just tried that. I'm still new here :)
This is pretty great. None of the seed words seemed forced. Great poetic language throughout. Great imagery. The whole piece just worked. Great write.
Thanks! Appreciate you checking out my work
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