I massage the words in order
effleurage;
petrissage;
The words of circulation
manipulation and grief
This is a poem
it is not an answer or revelation
a resolution
or solution
to tomorrow or today
an equation unbalanced by itself
This is a mantra
a power rising to surface
worthless
birthless
no beginning, no end
no attempt at simulation
This is a sentence
years and lives of mentors a thousand
teachers
preachers
or politicians praying
their words are truly keys
For all the doors are locked
-D. B. Rocca, 2011
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