All writers have one: a bottom drawer full of half-finished works, scribbles and jots, and ideas which may never be more than a few marks on a napkin.
NaPoWriMo is a great opportunity to grab some of that poetic detritus, and up-cycle it.
This is one such. Still unfinished, I feel, but certainly tidied from its original state.
IN FULLNESS, I WEEP
I have been fecund for too long
Carrying this world, these children, this body
Has worn me down to skin and soul
My worldy stuff and nonsense
Is to be distributed amongst those less blessed
I will be fully empty soon
And just become a gaping space
Spewing forth nothingness to passers by
Listen to my dusty Jeremiad.
I am done with solid objects
Give me vacuum or give death
Plenum is no longer my preferred state
And if nature abhor me
I shall just abhor her back.