In a sense
Two hands claspedinprayer
Head,shoulders bent forward
Forgivemefather for I know what I do,
Not me, I sureasHell don’t.
Have you ever thought about all the little codes and numbers on a product? How many times does a single item get scanned and shipped before it’s sold? How often do we see this “language” without even noticing it?
Too much ebb and not enough flow;
quick! throw me a lifesaver!
I’m drowning in a sea of euphemisms.
these words are killing me slowly
when they should be killing me softly,
and I can’t seem to find my patience.
Remember the good ole days?
The ones with the whispering trees
and a golden haze, and popsicles,
and families that bowed their heads to pray?
This ^ is an experimental poem; The hyperlinks are meant to be “euphemisms” in some fashion, and gives the poem layers for the reader to explore and consider. I’m working on mediums of expression through new media art, a big interest of mine.