Industrial Design
I project jigsaw puzzle pieces out of my
muse the way a hen lays eggs, one by one.
Someone is putting the puzzle together.
A team of doctors examine me, say
they think that I’m a machine. I think
they’re right, according to those diagrams.
I don’t have the science background
to understand. I’m just a worker who’s
never met the owner of the factory.
11 thoughts on "Industrial Design"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
So clever and fun! Love how it builds toward the ending, PS Ordered your book and can’t wait to read it.
Thanks so much Sylvia!
I really liked this. The first verse especially, no the second one, no the third, no the last line. OK. all of it! Thanks.
Another good one. Your book? Is it out? Please send title and pub data so I can put in newsletter.
The book is out. It’s “Arranging Deck Chairs on the Titanic” (Rabbit House Press 2020) available at select bookstores, on Amazon, or for a signed copy at rabbithousepress.com
Thanks, Mary!
I really enjoyed this poem
Clever, creative perspective on writing and the muse! Love the ending line! Another excellent poem!
It is always encouraging to find a poet’s muse, Mike.
I love this! Hard to pick a favorite part in such a great poem, but I especially liked the ending.
I found it very affecting!
Like it! Esp, last line—never met the owner of the factory
Will we ever!