Make it Bigger.
“Edit out the Swans!”
low-moans the bass clarinet
too loud to move
the slider.
And down she went.
Edited.
“Too white,
I want more mood-
we have products to promote
without distraction,
edit out those Swans”
You knew didn’t you?
You made a bargain
back then.
And on she went,
like a fox chasing the coop
like bones crunching bone
“Pull down that moon
it spoils the view -
crop it and crop it,
cut it and paste it,
we must sell soon,
re-edit those Swans”
Edited.
Her overbearing pounce,
trampling motives -
scattered lost in flight,
the antonyms of you.
Hear this now;
“Let tweezers fall
forget your teaser’s call
do not regret this all.”
And tiny eyes mean tiny minds,
and tiny minds mean tiny lives,
and you don’t have to edit,
anymore.