The magnetic strip
behind the thin plastic
with raised numbers
rules my life.
An embedded chip
establishes my worth,
determines where I eat,
encourages excess.
It encodes my history,
tracks my whims.
I am a collection
of transactions,
just a hologram
of flesh and bone,
I am a gaping mouth
with a storage unit.
(from this week’s Living Poetry Prompt.)
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
Yimminy! Good one Bart.
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Thanks! Funny how the magnetic prompt transmogrified into this.
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