Inkskin Robot text

Inkskin Robot

Inkskin robot
pound metal bars
with your red gourd hammer hot
strike your message when your soul
guards can’t hear you
emotions bleed like sparks
falling in the rain
Sing your prayer,
a song of suffering
and linger in its streaming circles
Call out with your gray throat
thirsty for meaning
Sink down
till your stupid little soul
makes some sound
Then give thanks and shut up
for awhile