Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked from Stone Soup Poetry's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here.
I also have a book collecting the best of my first year of poems. Click here to purchase it.
This week was another open mic. Next week will be our first live show in two years. Thank you, Jim Dunn. More features are being lined up. Can't wait. Here's this week's poem. Thanks for reading.
No One's Reading Anyway
Disarmed,
counting dead.
Freed slaves
reappraised.
Viewers can
on screens
cataracted
with dust.
Soap opera
rotates way
too fast,
picked off
like scraps
under table,
over cat.
Kids trained
to plant seeds
on ground
where they
might be
burried,
run like
rabbits
under the
sleeping owl
they call
adulthood.
Daddy would
rather you
take arms,
freeze up
in fight stance,
brother warrior,
sister shield.
Today only
guaranteed
tomorrow.
Schools now
an Apple store,
of glass walls,
student sentries
every corner.
Schools now
well funded
though still
dig for books.
March in
parades
out in open.
Otherwise
stay in.
No one
goes home.
No questions
anymore.
Shuffling
between
cathedral
and compound.
Can't tell
which is which.
Special thanks to Julliane Powers, Jan Rowe, Blackbyrd, Nancy Dodson, Chris Fitzgerald, Laurel Lambert, Jon Wesick, Carol Weston, Bil Lewis, Ethan Mackler, Erik Tate, C.C. Arshagra and James Van Looy.
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