She stood up like a penis,
unfolding herself lazily
languidly and as if unawares,
stretched herself. Shook
just a bit. Yawned, an effort.
Spanked herself on the fundament
once, totally unselfconscious
(one never really knows
about such things) as if
to get herself in gear,
pretend-riled up, and left
like the hole she left.
Like the cup and plate
of crumbs she left. And I,
who all the time she was there
had noticed she was there,
random along with several
random others, had not noticed
who she was, there. Or why,
and will never know now.
How could I?
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Tuesday, October 06, 2020
one's companions
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