Selected by Mary Kling
This poem can be found at: scribbledinbits a blog authored by poet M.A.S.
My Hands Remember Metal
The world scaffolds itself
On binary magic and electronic illusion.
The cloud buzzes down
And High Def video
In too many colors for my eyes to distinguish.
My car parks itself.
But my fingers have become soft
As they wear away
The white letters from my wireless keyboard.
They know only the feel
Of contoured plastic.
They remember when
The world was made of metal.
They long for the cold glimmer
Of aluminum sheets and the weight
Of a handful of steel screws.
My finger right-clicks and my hand
Pretends that instead of a dropdown menu,
It’s wrapped around a rivet gun.
It wants, every once in a while,
Blood on its knuckles, because
Hands don’t feel anything anymore.
(Note: the poem title and blog website names are hyperlinked to the poet's site. By clicking on any of these a new window will open and you will be taken directly to the highlighted site. )
We hope you have enjoyed reading this week’s selection. Each week we select a poem from one of our members which we feel is a wonderful read. It is the poetry penned by our members and their willingness to share that is the core of our community. If you enjoyed reading this poem we can guarantee there will be many more like it so be sure to stop by next week and read what poem has been selected for your reading pleasure.