tiny
February 25th, 2012 § 5 Comments
i turned the machine off
before i fled
i took small steps
so they wouldn’t hear me
eventually they caught up with me
though
they beat me
tortured me
left me for dead but the machine
never knew
because i turned it off
a long time ago
I am intrigue by this poem…so many thoughts engendered.
it flowed out of me all at once about 15 years ago. unlike most of my work, I don’t think I’ve ever changed a single word
This is so good. Have you consider to find a musician to sing about it?
It’s a tossup between either Engelbert Humperdink or the surviving members of Lynyrd Skynyrd.
I suspect today, it is you that will be the machine … if you know what I mean. LOL.