A flesh machine
on mind control
asleep at the wheel
of an earthbound fall
a maladaptive daydream
rolling the stone
on the road to Rome:
gods from the cogs
of a clock
farm
~race
some shadow work
for laying in the cut
and playing in the blood,
a saving grace
with a long game face
an enduring faith
in short-term fealty
(and memory)
tallying salt:
a broken legion
made in the shade
of blackened towers
on billable hours
a deep clean creep
down in-between
the dark night of the soul
and some rabbit hole dream
a clockwise drive from
forgotten edge to
unrequited void
a tare-weight treason
bearing false (wheat)
witness-
where the serpent
wraps the cross
by caduceus spent
where the grave dirt wage
makes its slow, steady wade
on a star-crossed brake
where the storm in the mind
numbers aside
that three-lobed eye
working from the shadows
and playing in the road
(laying in the cut)
a soul machine
at flesh control
awake in the weal
of a skyline call ~
delayed gratification
among the stones
on a long ride home.
I feel that you pulled a lot of Greek mythology inspiration here? I could be wrong. I like the piece
Greco-Roman culture & philosophies, plus some New Testament references. Legionnaires, Roman soldiers with a particular skill at building roads, were not paid in gold but salt, which is where we derive the word ‘salary’. That might be somewhat of an urban legend, but it seems to be at least rooted in truth.
Great eye again, thank you!!
Thank you;))
I think many of us feel like machines. We work 9-5 jobs…like factory work, restaurant work…I did both.
Watched the clock…tried to have fun, but machines don’t laugh or cry.
This poem has a sense of rhythm that matches that routine…and the rhyme scheme is subtle but smart.
Really enjoyed and felt this read….related from my days before I got lucky and found teaching.
j.