&&Myra

[gipsyqueen]

For the first time in literally a year, I wrote something I deem vaguely worth glancing at.

Jack
over orange shag carpet
pulls from his throat
sound reminiscient of large
noses. German lamp
or lamb.
From the other side of two
and a half walls
Myra needs a pillow.
I make cream of wheat too
much salt too
little butter
the usual complaints.
He teaches me
individual perception denounces
proof of what is and says what is
is only what could be. But
everything is something even
nothing is a noun
the only discrepancy is the
strength of polarity
between two extremes.
The world is made entirely of magnets.
I soon forget lamp or lamb but I have
seen callouses be pillows
and I have carved my name
in red picnic tables.