PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I was standing at the paper shredder today

Watching all its endless hunger,

While I fed it all the documents I had

And watched them go under.



Then, of course, I blanked out for a second

And cranked out parallels of us

With pages after snowy pages lost.

I realized no matter what I fed it,

Nothing got resolved.

But still, how watching all the slicing

Makes a satisfying crunch.

The more the bunch

The thicker the sound.

And so I grabbed the greediest mounds.



But at some point in time, just took the thinnest sheet alone

And passed it through the cutting zone.

Its crunch was just a skinny sound

But still, how you could hear it moan.

Words and paragraphs disintegrating like its broken bones.

Like that one day on the phone:

Feeding thoughts that seemed to be depleting, to your heart.

But nothing came of such a weak attempt.

And soon my voice would shred and part

And I'd feel the receding of my whispers into all our dark.