usually an index card
occasionally a sticky note
as if to say
i have frozen this moment
cataloged this half-thought
to cram into my pocket
fold into the library book
tuck behind the visor
so that if
a large two letters
this slice should resurface
fluttering down from then
to the latest incarnation of now
i will drop it
tender and ready expandingly
into the page
exploding into fresh
the seamonkey the plant
the tiny foam in capsule now a giant sponge
shaped like a spaceship or a dinosaur
large grand full real
not a shrinkydink
not a shredded laundry clog
not an overdue returned forgotten
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Half-thoughts are content to wait.
Indeed, suspended happiness!
Post a Comment