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I was forced to wear
the collar bomb
welded steel
manacle strapped
around my neck
quadruple locked
the device
sits on my chest
timer ticking
like a heartbeat
it's crazy-making
that sound, the ticking
constant reminder
that it may explode
at any second
tear a hole
through my body.
I don't know how
it got there
but I know
there is no choice.
I have instructions
to find the keys
like a scavenger hunt
place to place
to find the next clue
and the next clue
to eventually find a key
so don't judge me
when you see me
wandering around
looking for answers
confused
muttering to myself
like I'm cuckoo
maybe yelling at God
on the sidewalk, or in the park
peeking under rocks
or in the hollows of trees,
I'm not lost
I'm searching
for a clue leading
to a clue leading
hopefully to a key
to unlock
the collar bomb.
I do what I can
to hide it
under my shirt
the collar bomb
don't want to spook
folks in the grocery line
or at the convenience store
and especially not
at the bank where
they might get
the wrong idea.
Not a day goes by
when I don't expect
to be surrounded
in the street
by cops
sirens and red lights
blaring, guns drawn
yelling, "On your knees!"
"Hands in the air!"
and I will plead to them
it wasn't me
who put the bomb there
and I will do
exactly as I'm told
no false moves
and like a monk
protesting a war
I will drop
to the ground
and pray.
2 comments:
This poem is very cool. Seriously, this is the kind of poem I wish I had written. Built around a single, inventive but surreal metaphor that could symbolize so many things ... life, death, art, poetry, self-knowledge, search for meaning, search for God, etc. Reminds me of Kafka's Hunger Artist.
I love the beat, and I love all the rhymes, near-rhymes and same-word-rhymes.
The one line I don't like is: "they're like a scavenger hunt". It has too many beats, and it's unclear whether you are referring to the instructions or the keys. Maybe if you just dropped "they're" and kept the rest of the line.
I thought monks protesting wars self-immolated??
Thanks Kelp, your suggestion on that edit is taken. I had the same feeling.
Isn't exploding in public sort of the same as self-immolation?
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