Change of Pace: A Trial Poem

Let’s see if I remember how to do this

writing poetry

it’s been a long time
and when you haven’t done it in a while
you become rusty
like a nail no longer shiny in the light

not gleaming with the lines etched in its sides
now surreptitiously
smuggling lockjaw for the unfortunate soul
who cuts their flesh drawing blood
mixing their life force with toxic bacillus

can poetry be this lethal?

we wander about life
wearing shoes as a precaution
against rusty nails
but perhaps our eyes need shields

protection against bad poetry
inflicting mortal wounds