BoneshakinA Poem by Duncan BrownShake
your hands to your elbows And
your bones down to your feet Where
empty sockets in our pockets Remind
us where eyes used to see When
our shoes really hit the street
Walking
on water is something else Treading
grapes a sweeter experience While
each doth not presage the other Sour
wine tastes so much sweeter Than
a dust filled glass of dry water
Loaves
and fishes in their dishes Feed
the hungry eyes of multitudes Eating
miraculously each mirage Believing
it to be the fools’ banquet Transforming
hunger with a new image
Breaking
bones is not what it used to be When
the economy of flesh is hunger And
salvation is a calcium paradise Costing
each of our arms at least a leg When
life is damage imitating limitation. © 2016 Duncan BrownAuthor's Note
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Added on December 11, 2016 Last Updated on December 11, 2016 Author
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