January 28, 2008

• if my face was an egg carton,
  i’d pluck my eyeballs out and wash ‘em
  they are miniature deserts
  on a peach plane.
  if my body was a rubberband,
  i’d allow it to come
  boing-ing back to its resting state
  the bruised left knee cap, the emotionally-drained thighs.
  if my mind was yawn,
  i’d let the oxygen in, and push the questions out
  like a bouncer at the pub.

  • 3:47 pm
  • 1 Comment