Pennies and Bones
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Pennies for scrap and junk yard bones
burnished copper accolades heaped on yellowed moans.
Counting the scratch’s on the marrow another notch on the skull,
an empty rattling refrain of a mind on full null.

Swinging labors hammer and pounding the thumb,
turning blood into copper and bones into crumbs.
Stacks and heaps and heaps and stacks
shouldered to the wheel and carried on broken backs.

There’s a numbness to the pain,
again,
and again.

A method to the madness
of do not complain.

The mortar of centuries applied with this shtick
grounded pennies and bones of the dead and the quick.
They say the streets of Heaven are lined with gold,
all minted in the fires of Hell by men who were bold.

Somewhere on Earth between the extremes
the pleasure and pain is all that it seems.
Life is a battle with all of its groans
the good and the bad… pennies and bones.