by Spiel
your fingerprints
are threadbare from
sweat on grindstone
barely gripping
the skinny side
of a faceless dime
you wish tomorrow you could
sing that old song once again
how your dime was worthy of
your hard time
and you could share your song
with multitudes
and that old song would last you
all day long
There is no NEA nor MFA influence in diverse writings of personal conflict and social consciousness by the poet Spiel, published frequently, internationally, online and in independent press journals. His latest books are: “she: insinuations of flesh brooding,” March Street Press and “once upon a farmboy,” MadmanInk. Learn more about Spiel at: www.thepoetspiel.name.
