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Jan 07, 2025
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The Spread
Basement bent
are them that count
the bodies popped
and bubbled out
bloated blistered
posed and snapped,
puzzles that
scratch our heads
shuffle us
from foot to foot.
They zip the bags
collate the stats
aggregate
the autographs
estimate
the columned dead.
Sky-screened
and cloud-wrapped
stretched on power
buttoned beds
are them that bet
against the spread.
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
neopoet
6 months 1 week ago
Neopoet AI 5-29-23 version
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Ruby Lord
6 months ago
This made me think of the
This made me think of the Covid pandemic and the terrible failures by many governments, ours included. Ruby xxx :)
Ray Miller
6 months ago
The Spread
Thanks, Ruby. Yeah, Covid is the theme, the contrast between public serviceand private profit. But it's a poor poem, too much style, too little sense.
Ruby Lord
6 months ago
You underestimate yourself.
You underestimate yourself. There is so much in this poem. The clipped lines, the line breaks, the repetition of sounds, in lines like, collate the stats / aggregate the autographs,
But it is the final lines that are both chilling and cynical.
stretched on power / buttoned beds
are them that bet / against the spread.
Your poem deserves a wider appreciation. Ruby xxx :)
Lavender
6 months ago
The Spread
Hello, Ray,
You have a gift in making what is raw, quite poetic and relevant. This is a bit different from your usual, but that doesn't make it "too much style." I'll be back if you choose to revise in any way, but to me, this is written so well.
Thank you,
L