Friday, November 29, 2013

Voiced // POEM: Untitled [1] by Thomas Rivet

Untitled [1]
And so then we
dropped our pens,
built a book fort,
and kept the studious
out of our play port.

And so then we
scribbled down rules,
worshiped paper jewels,
and set up a revolution
with our craft and tools.

And so then we
were charged with treason
for far too few a reason.

Our book fort,
our play port,
was sliced short;
for fear of raging retort.

And so then we
picked our pens
and were fixed to paper
and screen. Ever been
phased by rotational routine?


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