the bubble gum soap
to scrub printer's ink
in the press washroom
with the granite sink
soap of neon pink
cleanses grime away
who will whiten my
black and blues today?
soul's donkey gray
darker shade of pain
written big and bold
in indelible stain
This Eeyore-ing rain
scoring grooves in faces
weeping down like salt
tales told in the traces
whittling deep and wide
subterranean lows
can't go much deeper
it's low as it goes
elevator mic drop
plummets through the floor
steam locomotive
gate crashes the door
amid the debris
the push pushes past
chokey smoke roiling
chaos halts at last
Notice I said halt
not stop, end nor ceased
slow-motion station
lulls the ceaseless beast
I wish for pink stuff
to wash him away
but this juggernaut
is with me to stay.
But that pink soap didn't work very well either, so I turn to my poems from whence comes some peace.
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