poem submission by Mj Lemon

[mj lemon]

Greetings Everyone,

This is a completely original, never-before published poem.

Thanks,

Mark

Import export

or

Low rent Gibran advises Dorothy

Some write about the body

a vessel that stores essence, vitality

Corpus, that space for rent

I am a renter who one day will vacate

There may come an eviction notice

the hope is not violent

a fall, a crash, a knife, a bullet, despair

There are those who import

who take what cannot be seen

but that which drives the hands

the feet, the performance

He is the boss, the friend, a vampire,

the colleague and for some sad few

a close relation

Exporters deal fear and faith

and theirs is the claim

that life is for shipping

Giant cryogenic cans

and there was Mary Shelley, naivete,

claiming it could be hauled

by one great bolt of lightning

Surely there must be a place

that allows ownership

A neighbourhood where bye-laws

make sense and time stands still

so forever we do what offers up loving, joy

and others voice only encouragement

Can we move into such a place?

And if the space you now call home seems oddly inviting

Perhaps word of a long waiting list comes as exciting