The Poet's Reproduction
By Peter Scott
You savored the trial
Experienced such elation
When nothing mattered
Godless in a heap
Without purpose
Or thoughts of your own
A simple cog
Pushed and
Pulled
Driven to burden others
Who read these words
Thanking their lord
They are less themselves
At least they are happy
For you are not in all
The privileges granted
Touched like them
Does your pleasure derive
From that accursed feeling?
Worthlessness from knowing
Future through the past
Bloodied against infinite walls
Reason not to move
Peering at yourself ripped asunder
Under a distance
Scraping your burns while the minutes move by
Knowing never to see that look
Or yourself
Conversations secret now
Forever
Love's son
Waiting by the porch
Calling out in the wind
Anything ever done backfired
Launching
Tearing more than your muscle apart
A life force
Longing to be born
When death comes
Wishing to express
Pleading to speak
Something you can not speak but must
Self-made Cancer
Infecting
Cell by cell
Over your mind into
The house
Two options present themselves
Die
Or try
Maimed more torture follows
Pain leaves Death alone
So you try
Writing the cancer on paper
Skipping rules
Breaking reason
To talk with many
In isolation
None understand
Those strange perplexities
They merely eat your soul
Without tasting
Robbing you of the cancer
Curing you
Granting unofficially a community
Where I understand
Don't flinch to hold you close
Or kiss you with the knowledge
We are two of the same.
