Bingo by Stephen Kingsnorth

Source: Pixabay

As if a lotto board engaged,

without cash prize or laughter raised.

Not a good fit, the present time, .

the next, and the one after that;

ten minutes last, though check again,

Submittable, unchanged its tune,

prospective journal, presses died.

Past promised publication date,

enjoyed your work, cut, paste again,

parenthesis, mind-reading games,

write any style, (but not your own).

It is not luck that chooses House,

its furniture, the former guests,

to recognise rejection slips,

composed by writers, past ingrained;

the dread of midwife, news to share,

delivered, still-birth, motherhood.

Some shuttered image, open frame,

a patterned dress or sculpted shape,

as environs prints eroteme,

from sole debate what soul creates.

When site accepts, the tenth attempt -

assumed they must print anything -

or do I send them everything,

what means something, submit, though poor.

The treasure stored in box through years,

erupted into line and phrase,

unless the stranger finds a friend

on fallow ground, rotated crops.

Author Bio: Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies. To read more of Stephen’s work, visit https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com/.