Recycling*

I’m warning you, I wield metaphor like a sword… And I’ve got a brand new pen,

If you ever wondered what a poet was for, just watch how far I bend,

I’ll twist the words up into art… Like shiny copper wire,

Slake this thirst inside my heart, in the ravages of fire,

Shape the garbage of an active head… Into a pleasing form,

Pluck the worthy things I said, from my latest verbal storm,

Growing thoughts out of my brain… Planted in my chair,

Just little me, and a little pain, I illustrate it there.

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