Production Line

much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin

what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun

production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree

i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,

diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.

but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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