Laurence Overmire Poems

He asked for one thing in this life
Wisdom
He was graced with talent, dreams, ambition
But he asked for wisdom.
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Face to the wind in bitter cold
Beards crusted with ice
Gray eyes steeled in fierce rebellion
No foreign blade to master
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Old man on the bed
Where do you go
When the lights are dark
And the nurse calls out
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Welcome to Biotech International Conglomerate Industries.
We breed and manufacture humans.
From testicle to test tube,
We are involved in every step of the process—
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I weave the gold with clandestine fingers
In silken thread of head and heart

A skein of treasure lying on the floor
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To be a serious poet
Is to continually face
The battering hand of rejection
No value placed on
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Taking a bottle of work to work
In the desk, the file, the flask
Tucked inside the third piece of
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"Where shall the weary rest? When shall the lonely of heart come home? What doors are open for the wanderer? And which of us shall find his father, know his face, and in what place, and in what time, and in what land? " -Thomas Wolfe, from "Of Time and the River"


It took a while to find
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Took the sins of the Corporation
Upon her shoulders
The indignity of her firing
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