It came to about that time when the
clock struck, and hammered and chiseled
it's way, when I took it to mean me -
that I would have to slowly crawl toward
exits - like people would not notice the
list, the sign on the board.
It does name - and shock - at night,
trundling it does and one really can't block
the falling liquid, like you would know
that you would need to serve, to enlist
their services, relatives staking claim in
countries English, and under the crown.
Besides flights out of the country, I became
accustomed to blaring humans, at one of which
noticed the list, a name, a face, registering
this complaint or that, as though I really
deserved all that attention paid, in cash -
a debt that never could recur - like a delayed
payment in blood, donating to military.
A dog laps about, not understanding the plight -
unloved but rewarded with flags, flags, folds
remarkably gloved, as icing, cream cheese,
namely whipped cream - a cream we'll never
see in the jungle that was survival for the
best and the worst, as names are listed in
granite, black, shiny, afraid,
notice the end of the day.
© 2016 Larry Ingram
Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture.