The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts


POTW #865
(Week of 4 May, 2014)

Apologies for the spotty service of late. We here at Poetry Central Headquarters want you to know that we value your kind attention, and will do our best to continue to inject your Mondays with murmurings and burblings of the most versified sort.

Pile Driver

It's steel and oil and cables and it's several stories high
A toddler with a hammer and a twinkle in its eye
A giant happy toddler smashing sticks into the ground
Whose only gleeful purpose is to pound and pound and pound

I waken in the morning to percussive rhythmic din
They're putting up a bridge and need to whack some pillars in
And so they have engaged a dedicated whacking rig
Just like a little kid except it's metal and it's big

For all our vaunted science and technology and brain
The kindergarten methods come up time and time again
Perhaps one day a cleverer procedure will be found
Til then I guess we'll go on bashing sticks into the ground

Copyright © 2014 by Dave Grossman

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