Mission Abatement

The remit of this poem,
Sent back into the world
That loaned it all its parts,

Is to manage a feat
Half hemoglobinish
By binding to something

Fresh in mind these phrases
Didn’t carry at first
And bearing it, tightly

Grasped, until it reaches
Some far corner of mind
With the capacity

To recognize, unlock,
And liberate these words
Of their useful burden.

Ah, but what do they bring,
These phrases, never was
Uppermost among thoughts

Before? Words are little
Mouths filled with needle teeth
That can latch on and tear

Off pieces of ideas,
Unrecognizable
Now to that bit of mind

That birthed them, but use them
To nourish other bits
Of mind thinking new ones.