while a beaver dam appears in the living room
and stop signs begin marching in protest
along with counterprotests by traffic lights
and the leaves on the trees grow heavier than the wood
while hot dogs have paper clips shoved into them
as I try to write "as squirrels and chipmunks fly by me"
when I get asked how to spell "license"
and the money in my pocket ceases to exist
along with the spelling of "money"
when the squirrels dig into the ground
and the stop signs are ignored
and I can see the cracks
and the ground tears away, breaking into whiteness, and I
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1 comment:
I talk shit over at Tao's and I think this poem is really, really good
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