Heya. How are you? I haven't posted new material in a while. After I finished Book Four, I was doing some reading and sending out samples from Book Four to agents and such, but this poem just came out of me today. Thought I would share. It's a deep little sucker. Hope you like it, C.A. MacConnell
Market
Most people fear the quiet
snakes, but oxygen returns
to those who wait. I hate
to tell you, but I am god,
and you are god, and this
is god, and so is the one
without legs. Little, dark
circles under my eyes. Last
night, I dreamed that you
had silver, sharp canines.
When we kissed, I tasted
metal. No matter, no mind.
Following, I was a parachute
on the drag strip. For years,
I took the bait. Sometimes,
my ring fingers freeze, stuck
closed from the trigger grip.
I am a single tremor, a locked
knuckle. I shake whether cold
or not, but movement tears apart
the numb. I see the market, yes,
but can I pay with food stamps.
All around, the millionaires
are fasting. Now, my blanket
is damp, and the bad eye
is peeled open. Yesterday,
people told me that my hair
was pretty. I stood like a rock.
C.A. MacConnell
