Short of a Dozen

Sell the time
short of a dozen eggs or so,
maybe even
short of a dozen egos
if you really want
to delve into it.

I don’t have any suppositions
to be made about our cosmic lifeblood,
conscious or otherwise,
but I wouldn’t hold it against you
if you decided to speak up
about your version of things.

All in all,
twisting the fraudulent skeleton key
into some manmade lock
can only achieve one of two results.
We hope there’s something
to be revealed behind that door,
if we can even call it a door.

Sometimes we have to heave our hefts
to and fro, as though
there were no gravity
to impede our progress
through the cattle drive
we call average workaday life,
and is there anything the matter with that?

Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children. View all posts by Aidan Badinger