Photo Challenge #4 “Figments of Inertia”

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Tom Bagshaw

I cannot grant them life, these figments

They congeal as an unturned stew

I am not God I haven’t any use to pretend

They will destroy me, these poems

For they are not satisfied to remain in transit

They want to loved, to be worn especially

But outside of me they are unwanted

Redundant in the way very curious things are

 

I do not go outside enough to be modern

I steep in the same mephitic broth day after day

Rotten in the belly as in the temperament

These figments are gleaned of instability

Of sternal shavings and heart threads

I am hopeless and that too shall pass

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