TSM 164

Throwing a clay 
is how you stick your
in the world's muddy

Yeah, smash it down
grind it in and let the earth
you're a weird little angry

There you go, that feels
now right? Scrap it all and start
just like poems, better luck next

So here goes: I pound it
and scrape in a gyre of
with my unclipped finger

welcome now please the
to drop its beak down a record
and caw, claw us all back
to kingdom come

The Sunday Muse

22 thoughts on “TSM 164

  1. Well this was definitely worth running through hoops to get to my friend! I love the imagery of the last stanza with the crow and the record player, and the turning turning turning like throwing clay. Brilliant!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Aw fuckinay qbit, I’m reading along, nodding, uh huh, uh huh, and then you place my head on the tee of that final stanza, wind up with your baseball bat like a Warmer Bros. cartoon character, and bash my brain into next month with that finish. Ay!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. There’s a great pent-up feeling to this, like the one that comes when nothing comes easy, but you’re too stubborn to quit. I like the fancy that the earth itself turns us like a potter’s wheel, annealing mistakes and starting us over with a little help from a DJ crow. It’s full of vivid images too, like the unclipped fingernails, which instantly gave me the tactile response of clay jammed up under them, pushing, chaotic, fighting back. Great stuff, qbit. Always a pleasure to read you.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Venting frustration on a piece of clay, trying to unsculpt past poor choices, blame the muddy eye….while the crow caws knowingly, beak-directed to the solution.

    Liked by 1 person

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