Transparent Words - Poetry
Those miserable days when misplacing your keys becomes a metaphor for loosing your mind. The milk carton lies dead your brain plowed over with yesterday's nonsense a thousand ruined armies. One greening end of hardened bread the bottom scum of the jelly jar the walls dance on the flat part of your skull. The covers rise up possessed by piles of underwear the stacks of dishes flying as guillotines. Somewhere keys whispering to your lost wallet about the jacket you misplaced in the forth grade having to save your lunch money for a whole year to pay for it.
Pg12
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