The man with no fingers
was chasing me, but
he couldn't catch up
just bat my back
with his fingerless hands,
it was creepy enough. So
I ran and ran
and began to gasp
as I cracked my plan
and examined it.
I'd found this guy
breathing down my back
with his noses for eyes
and elbows for thighs
a time or two,
maybe three before
- I was sure.
He was hard
not to recognize. But
I couldn't make out
what to do about him.
Should I stop? Turn around,
make nose contact? I bet
he'd pretend I'd been
chasing him.
I will not
put up
with a thing like
that.
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?
Saturday, April 30, 2022
The man with two hands
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment