Locus (poem)

By Luke Labern

Plump threats (and curvaceous women):
Pumped-up men with thoughts of winning.
A sure uncertainty is looming
In the horizon. Unassuming
-- At a distance. Up close
It's more intense than most.

The choices made will make and 'break

The hearts' of those with the most at stake,

But some of us are done with waiting --

That ticking noise is unabating.

The months are passing -- so too my youth;

A man of action always starts anew.

This is one: an arbitrary label

(A dangerous tool to keep chaos stable):

With pre-conceptions now brought to the fore

It's time to take purchase of what was once in store.

The horizon comes into focus:

Who would have thought that you would be the locus?

Poetry, 2012-04-08 22:00:26 UTC