on cheap content strung together like
fake pearls from a hawker’s duffle;
A back-alley transfer, pony up
and you’ll be left alone.
The promise is a saving purpose,
a one act play on sympathies.
Join Crusaders for the non-existent,
hook verbal chains around your soul
and stamp it out, forward march.
The generous enlist,
clamp on hearts dear,
lend credence to the lie, drag
down in cheap trade for
costume jewelry peace.
Break link and earn dishonor,
red carpet roll out for a seven year plague.
Even skeptics calculate,
tuck letters flat in low dresser drawers.
How old would I be?
What if we called it Bluff,
yanked Just from just in case
with word power brave and sharp?
You can’t be bound! Love does not barter;
You, yes, YOU are necessary.
Copy, paste. Pass on letters
unscrambled over light,
a misfit chain gang for the King,
a mass recycling
of exponential Grace.
*Experimenting with poetry and joining Amber C. Haines‘ series, Concrete Abstractions, at www.therunamuck.com as she explores writing out spirit through the concrete things of life. This week’s topic, CHAIN.