Stop-Loss

I'm desperate for material

raw poetics gradually lost

as a digital clock loses time

an unexplained inevitability

of electricity

of light bulbs tied to kites

ideas that require a storm
to snap into being

I've been going over journals
papers and wires
where I've kept track
of combinations
star-crossed words
ready to die on poisoned pens
for the chance
to live together forever

It's just hard to kill
what's already undead
literal zombies
taking themselves seriously
as they shamble along
like soldiers
returned to war
until something breaks