Sarah Daly
My words and phrases
are stretched to breaking:
they are hollow, sterile
and over-processed.
Tentative repairs
are weaved by
strong voices
who are temporal, transitory,
yet solid, sustaining.
They obliterate my thoughts,
and mold my message
into a grotesque parody
of itself.
This shiny new thing
is too long and flashy
for the world
which will cruelly reject it.