Another original poem for today’s poem of the day. A bit unusual. Not quite sure if it’s done. But, I like it.
I believe they are called “coyotes”
those smugglers that go over the border to bring people into America.
I wonder if I could hire one?
someone to sneak across my borders.
searching for pieces of me left behind–
broken bits and jagged edge slivers—
hidden for years under miles of dust, debris, and baggage.
bringing them back to me to recreate myself
into some collage, some abstract mosaic of broken glass…
rearranging them into some Pollock-like masterpiece
that when you turn it in just such a way…
it bears resemblance to a human being.