Where's Newton?

A moment ago I wrote a poem
About itself
It was brilliantly connected,
Theme to metaphor, form to function.
Loke Newton's nail-less bridge.
It hung suspended by its own 
Gravity.

A moment ago I wrote a poem
That fell apart,
Partly because I've never seen a moment
.  Partly because I've never seen a moment
.  But, though I know I remember,
Word for word recall the lines
That stuck together like calculus,

I can't be the same person.

A moment ago he wrote a poem,
A poem that I can never know.
I only know it like a freezer,
Rigid and cold.
Soemtimes that other person gets out
Stumbling like and ice man thawed,
He has my face, but is really out of place,

A relic poem writer. But where then
Is the poet? Or rather, when?

A man named Newton made a magic bridge
Where wood's weight pushed up wood
So no nail need scar it. But,
Not to be outdone, Nature worked away
Till the wood rotted away,
And all Newton's students
Couldn't put it back together again

Without nails.

Breaking the Leash Laws

Let loose the dogs of war
for Death is coming over
and she loves to nag about
going to the Jones'es
instead of visiting quietly
with the TV.

Let loose the dogs of war
for she loves dogs a lot
and will want go out and find them
and maybe even walk them about
for a visit to the Jones'es.

And when you let loose of the dogs
put on a dark suit or serious
dress if you're a woman as though
going to a funeral. Funerals
are boring enough to keep her away
and they keep the time occupied with dressing.

Let loose our dogs of war
because they are restless and too big
to stay couped up in the yard
and too annoying to be let in the house.
And also, wear cherry red ties

for after you let loose the dogs of war
you'll want an excuse to get Death
when she brings back the stray pets.
Like the Jews and the door thing (only less messy)
you might make her thing she's been there already.

For she's bad about spilling cherry Kool-Aid
and prone to forgetfulness.