{"id":35902,"date":"2017-08-05T16:22:37","date_gmt":"2017-08-05T20:22:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=35902"},"modified":"2017-08-05T16:22:37","modified_gmt":"2017-08-05T20:22:37","slug":"the-words-are-marching","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/the-words-are-marching\/","title":{"rendered":"The Words are Marching"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The Words are Marching<br \/>\nVCS <\/p>\n<p>I wrote a hundred thousand words<br \/>\nI tossed them in the air<br \/>\nI wrote them in a coma<br \/>\nI wrote them on the stare<br \/>\nI tried to keep the words down<br \/>\nWith chicken soup and ginger ale<br \/>\nBut gypsy curses and wandering street light people<br \/>\nThrew my words like cookies<br \/>\nBack out of me and I brayed them<br \/>\nFrom the steeples<br \/>\nI thought that eventually<br \/>\nThey would be picked clean<br \/>\nWhen I hung around at rookeries<br \/>\nBut it was not to be<br \/>\nA million words came marching<br \/>\nAnd jumped right out of my cerebellum<br \/>\nNot caring a dash about what happened to me <\/p>\n<p>Words are thoughtless creatures<br \/>\nEven when used thoughtfully<br \/>\nMarauding little beasts<br \/>\nThey have complete control over me<br \/>\nSometimes they pick my hands up<br \/>\nEven when I&#8217;m sleeping<br \/>\nAnd ghostlike pluck the keyboard<br \/>\nInto unknown symphonies<br \/>\nThe words are coming from the rafters<br \/>\nThey live in the crannies in the walls<br \/>\nThey live in desperate lovers<br \/>\nThey make the weak tremble and fall<br \/>\nThey make the strong the same if they&#8217;re not careful <\/p>\n<p>The words are marching out of me<br \/>\nBrazen creatures they! Coming out of my hands, my mouth my eyes<br \/>\nAnd yet you  make them say to you as you would have them speak<br \/>\nThat&#8217;s the way they like it<br \/>\nTwisting<br \/>\nMaking wind<br \/>\nTornadoes swooping down on landscapes<br \/>\nLeaving ruin<br \/>\nOr bringing us to brand new worlds<br \/>\nThe choice is theirs<br \/>\nIt isn&#8217;t up to me or you<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Words are Marching VCS I wrote a hundred thousand words I tossed them in the air I wrote them in a coma I wrote them on the stare I tried to keep the words down With chicken soup and ginger ale But gypsy curses&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[2133,52],"class_list":["post-35902","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","tag-2017-poetry-marathon","tag-virginia-carraway-stark"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35902","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=35902"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35902\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":35987,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35902\/revisions\/35987"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=35902"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=35902"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=35902"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}