Couch Potato Architect

Any day mo(u)rning I sit,
listen to the sound of static saccharine
steady, rocking myself to sleep
on this old claustrophobic couch

and as I shut myself up inside, I deny

setbacks sink into c(l)ogged machinery
like circulated coins in saggy cushions,
a cold quarter looking for a 1-up,
another chance to play this arcade game

and as I reach deep down inside, I realize

my powdery hands are dry vines (divine)
and I want to pick forbidden fruit,
gather berries from a fuzzy memory
from the capital of these nerve endings

and I architect my demise/revival at the time deep down I know is right

 

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This poem was penned for dVerse Poets Pub’s Poetics: InterActions poetry prompt, hosted by Brian Miller and Gretchen Leary. I decided to go with Brian’s prompt, which is to basically play Mad Libs. Brain suggested asking someone to offer up 2 nouns, 3 verbs, 3 adjectives and 2 random words, then write a poem including/based on those words. My wife gave me the following words: capital, couch, play, sleep, listen, fuzzy, old, powdery, machinery and sink.