Thursday, February 7, 2013

this side up

you feel
a little battered,
a little bruised.
set aside and banged
against,
misused and abused.
the crate of you
is loose and shaken.
you can hear
the broken
glass within.
they take you off
the belt, place
you in the truck,
then without any
ceremony ring the bell,
toss you
onto the front
porch, not caring
who's home, or
whose package you
are. not a soul even
has to sign
for you. you are
on your own.

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