you set the game up
change the rules
to sharpen your exposure
for soon comes the time
you’ll sell your soul
to the one
already owning it
and isn’t it something
just to know
you’re not the animal
that sometimes showed
but a trigger on a gun
a stray bullet
on the run
ready to explode
into the sea of words
each poem you write
a domino

worry not
of the losers
who’ll soon be swept away
for the dice
were already painted
with the colors
of your imagery
the merchants
of your policy
as in the end
they still will win
for black and white
the microdots glisten
each one aimed
at a different soul
already sold
to the one
who owns them

you’ve shown the mercy
of at least a warning
now let them see
how the blocks will fall
where there is no end
to the chain reaction

© 1982

800 hits as of March 2024

07/25/2016

Posted on 07/25/2016
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti