Nerves In A Socket Poem by Michael Witkowski

trample on my feet
you will never lace my mind
with your own silverspoon

however mighty worthy you
deemed your silverspoon may be
passsed on many tracks and byways

from the celestine river that your
grandpa general crossed in wintry nights
suffocating the rebels with his brittle sword

yank out your past make it mine
jerk it out of your plug socket- see the spark
that's the electrocution coming down your nerves