I’m trying to tell you something important
But this poem is broken.
I took it apart and spread the pieces
On my kitchen table: the synonyms, the rhythm,
A clear message and some well-meaning passion.
All fragments accounted for, all in working condition
But they won’t move together, won’t connect like
Cogs in a clock, won’t sound the alarm I so urgently need.
I’m straining to share a heavy, untold story
But my sentences are no longer logical.
I’ve used dictionaries and thesauruses, peer review
And scribbled revisions but I still can’t form
Something that makes sense.
So I’m offering these pieces, carefully preserved,
In hopes that some poetic mechanic
Will hear the clanking of my efforts to put
Them back together and provide the right device
Or a detailed instruction manual, something
That will empower me to get these oppressive
Tales off of my chest and out to the audience
Where they belong.