Monday, October 15, 2012

Untitled


He has his toys organized all in a row
wrenches, and hammers, and pliers.
Criss-cross apple sauce.
He has lenses over his eyes,
almost invisible
in the light of his office.
On the pelt of a
plum shag carpet.
Asking questions
that don’t make sense.
Taming the roaring lions
that prowl the wild
savanna of your
mind.

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