(feeling like a burn out…)
i am trashcan scratchpaper
i am goodwill artwork
i am unfinished dishes
and i am sawdust from the crucifix
of the thief beside jesus
i am stems of marijuana
i am clicking alternator
i am shotgun shells
swept off the floor
of a shooting range
i am the skin of onions
i am the aftertaste of alcohol
i am a wax candle
where the wick has been snipped
Ii am a cardboard box
with the bottom cut out
i am the foreskin
of the son of Abraham
i am the baking soda
used to cut the cocaine
i am one third
of a one dollar bill
i am an outdated damaged copy
of an encyclopedia in a dead language
but somewhere
a dead man wakes
lost at the crossroads
of dementia and amnesia
and he finds me in his pocket
and i am his salvation
i am the book he holds in his hands
until he become useless white dust
in the stupid brown dirt
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013
READ 02.05, DAY 5 OF THE 02.2013 PROJECT
02.2013 is a thirty day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE
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Reminds me of a poetry exercise we once had to do – except yours is much better
What was the exercise?
Just to write a descriptive poem about ourselves, using unusual comparisons. I’ll dig mine out and post it (when I find it!)
“i am the foreskin / of the son of Abraham.”
Love. This. Line. (LineS?)
Did you intentionally de-capitalize all the “I”s?
Yeah. I think it started because of e.e. cummings’ poetry but its been so long now I don’t remember.
A nice mix of simple and complex images, all very tactile though!
Excellent – - – as usual. Thanks for sharing.
Brice – sh_t! I love your very very hard objectivity. “sawdust from the crucifix” … that breaks me. I don’t do the comment thing, man — I love your stuff. Beautifully / painfully / honest
Thank you, sir. Hope you’ll come on by again.