May 3
1 min read
Mine, a poem
My poem wears a warm cloak of anonymity.
It has green eyes and red hair.
It eats like an omnivore evolved from
the T-Rex and the Brontosaurus.
It dreams about children and schedules and love and violence.
It drives a modest car.
It lives in 1000 square feet where there is
too much art and not enough walls.
On weekends it likes to stay up to watch
the sunrise and then nap until noon.
