Tonight's Poet Corner: Jar Gun
Jar Gun
by Belinda Roddie
You are in my lingual territory,
and you've found lifeless chunks
of text that used to be stories
floating in the empty cavity of my skull. They
scooped my brains out with a ladle,
but there wasn't enough broth in their bowls
to feed a rat. And somehow, they were content
with storing my remains in a pretty coffin,
like my flesh are pages in a bound book,
filled with random jargon,
spraying bullets filled with nothing.
by Belinda Roddie
You are in my lingual territory,
and you've found lifeless chunks
of text that used to be stories
floating in the empty cavity of my skull. They
scooped my brains out with a ladle,
but there wasn't enough broth in their bowls
to feed a rat. And somehow, they were content
with storing my remains in a pretty coffin,
like my flesh are pages in a bound book,
filled with random jargon,
spraying bullets filled with nothing.
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