gauges of character

“i crossed a border illegally with paper
and sharp
pen;

the scale creaked like old shoes with
the smell of foot odor,
went from
0 to 1,

the shoes didn’t fit because my feet
had grown like a flame around
glass, around a
clouded lamp;

rusting cogs and wheels turned with
a resentful temper;

pressure gauge climbed from 0 to 100,
much like the disposition of
wealth without sacrifice,
weeping, weeping,

my wallet leather had aged from
lack of use, a prerequisite
for the sins
of spending;

opinion gauge reading ‘E’ on empty
just like the shrugged look on my
4 year old face
when given

hand me down haircuts and
broken toys,

by the time i grew into them, i
was graduating
high school;

temperature gauge 0 to 130
degrees, mercury running
scared like an
insufficient

prayer,

holy water and dial soap being
used to cleanse my four
lettered mouth;

the lever is pulled like a bucket,
its effect is measured out the
same way a custodial
mop measures

out character in youth,

the wooden mop handle
is oft times seen like a
wooden stick
in water,

is it, or isn’t it distorted;

the rusting cogs and wheels
are the complete sum of
my thoughts…”

Copyright © 03/27/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

Image

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