The Half Length Candle
The villain he talked about tears in the rain,
a painful nail he drove into his own hand
as he sought to scramble for a little bit more
but who was bargained into being wholesale,
a fashion of man, a flavor of something less.
We crawl and we climb and we claw our way,
tuned just a fraction below frantic and feral,
blinded by the barrage of our own heartbeat
to far off farmers set to harvest their fodder,
their cannibalized crop, their disposable income.
You are square in their sharpening sights,
tracked and tailed by the unending leashes
you couldn’t wait to strap on and impress,
segmented and targeted, awaiting your tap,
a notification pushed straight to your vein.
I am over and done with clockwork machines,
their dim diagrams scrawled in unlit ignorant
nights, soulless causal systems rendered so pale
by the poverty of real magic, of imagination that
wills the taut reality I forgot is simply a dream.
About the Poem
This poem was inspired by a scene in the film "Blade Runner" directed by Ridley Scott, based on a story by Philip K. Dick.
This poem is previously unpublished in print. This poem was finished January 23, 2016.