There Are No Finishing Touches
in reality no matter what
the usual work is always undone
you want to finish it?
it finishes you instead
look at the pile of books
don't you see the fangs on
every page? the blood on
every chapter
each word the taker of the
little flesh left in your mind?
you try putting the finishing touches
like a varnish on the well sanded chair
you blow your breath
and stand at a distance to look at
what a finished product should look
shiny, yes too shiny
and then you miss the sun
because what you see is always the
mirage beyond
your feet still are no master
as paths move away
as distance stretches itself like
light to infinity
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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