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These Ticking Tolls We Keep
by Matthew ZangenWhat is it to own a thing
like a self
when we are so many,
left in others,
made in speaking
and no longer,
and can we be unmade
like a clock without minutes,
or only broken
into sixty clicking seconds?
Can we believe each other
to keep good time
when we smooth and lie
our other people left inside?
Are we held in secret,
loved in selfish myth,
or are we blurred
through throats
as moans with wanton fingers,
freed to dig our missing pieces
from the cages kept in others?
Can we even escape
each other, or have we
only our blended selves left,
abound and patient,
to tell time about breaking
into our own. 08/21/2018 Posted on 08/21/2018
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 08/23/18 at 01:35 PM A nicely articulated poem. Yes, there are many selves for which there is only the tuning fork of love and poetry to bring them all into harmony and accord. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/25/18 at 04:05 PM Love those first two lines, your delving into our identities, the use of "selfish myths - playing with the word "self" that way, your blending of us into our others, and that terrific phrase - "sixty clicking seconds." Thanks for this. |
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