by Mary Saracino
Sucked into cyber-space
orbiting planet commerce
poetry vampires
leach cosmic marrow
from my bones
The stolen, rhythmic essence
oozes from the fetid fangs
of web text & sales prose
written in blood-homage
to the gods of business
A tattered price tag dangles
from the tongues
of profiteers who punch
my meal ticket
CEOs cough up
cash for market-driven lingo
sign no paychecks for poems
Somewhere, Erato sits
a wry smile upon her elegiac face,
scribbling sonnets onto
the underbellies of plump clouds
penning audacious odes
to all things essential
ephemeral, true
The Muse knows
poetry is manna
soul-mantra, sustenance
to the human heart
needed more than air
more than food
more than greenbacks
to stay alive, alive
to thrive
Mary Saracino is a novelist, poet and memoir-writer who lives in Denver , CO . Her most recent novel, The Singing of Swans (Pearlsong Press 2006) was a 2007 Lambda Literary Awards Finalist. Her short story, "Vicky's Secret" earned the 2007 Glass Woman Prize.
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