Cold Storage Poem

Thieves are upon these words
plucking, boiling undergarments of thought
trading fenced verse, attacking
neuro-pathway programs
transferred each morning
each sip of the stream
developed early in childhood,
protected, reclaimed with crayons and glued
magnetized, naturally resistant
like apple bins, aged ideas are pressed
cider ferments to be hoarded during
cyber prohibition, a momentary burst of free thinking
safely buried by the squirrels amidst
this autumn data
cold and secure
an alive flag hung high through a
secure tumbler of
human coded sounds

Dontate