be heard

I'm happy for this reception
talking to dead air
and it don't bear forgetting
cardboard people have no upsetting

with words when used like a sharp weapon
when your skeletons bear as clothes are undressed
smile when i make the incision
a poetic imprint
to sheer reception

im not receptive
or expectant of
ears to listen
my words are air
as dust settles there

they should be received
as a burning blessing
that words can turn
this dusky etching
into a world
thats new in its conception