Love me, for I write poems

Inside My Body

My body is big and hollow

I like to curl up inside my body and take a nap

It’s lonely in here, but it’s warm and cozy

When I was a child, I was forced to go out in the snow wearing plastic bags around my feet

Inside my boots It was warm, but not cozy

My mother told me I was special and I could do anything I wanted in this life, as long as I didn’t hurt anyone

I forgot to tell that to my own son

And I let him go out without plastic bags on his feet

He’s bigger than me now, so I can’t very well force him to wear plastic bags on his feet, even if they will keep his feet warm

My best chance is to try to get key youth celebrities to wear plastic bags so teens will think it’s cool

It’ll work, but it’s kind of a long-term project

Sleeping isn’t restful enough for me

I want to curl up inside my body and dream about going to sleep

Up and Down

The child was steadily growing

bones longer and stronger

brain more complex and effective

learning, reaching out and growing up

All the while, the house around him was slowly decaying

floors rotting

foundation sinking

melting in slow motion

From the ground toward the sky

And from the sky toward the ground

The house is giving way to the child

He’ll build a new house some day

and die in it

Third Poem

What if all numbers were three?

You would count the marbles: three, three, three, three, three…

Three would always be the number of people in any group

Three minutes ’til the show

Wake up at three past three

Go to bed at three

Three birds fly overhead

Three days before the storm

You only have three minutes left

To do three things

Before your third life begins

Click any one of these daisies. Choose carefully:


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