sharing what is stolen 

When you think about it,

or don’t think about it,

or refuse to think at all,

all lines

all of the lines

are stolen

because all words

have been used

before us.

We all share

these words

and all us

writers do is

simply organize

them into phrases

and sentences

to make us feel these

stolen feelings that

have already been

felt before from

someone else’s

life and words

and meaning that

poured from

their pen

their mouth

and

their skin

all over onto the

next life in which

we share yet it is still

stolen because it is

recycled and used

and isn’t ours

because it was theirs.

So we speak these

words that have

been wrinkled and

sweated in and we

write our names in

them staking our

claim when we have

none at all

because they are stolen.

And we didn’t pay

for the copyright

or make monthly

payments to the

dead so therefore

we are not legally

entitled to speak

or write anything

at all

in any order

because we are

all

breathing

stolen