maybe a scarf
this one maybe, no how about this
this one is nice
but how nice is it
is it $65 nice
will she wear a scarf
didn’t I get her a scarf last year
what color is her coat
she doesn’t want a scarf
this scarf is nice for me
how about a tablecloth
but she won’t iron it
what size is her table
does she have a table
I should have thought jewelry
a brooch or something
I’ve got all this money
stuffed in my pockets
it’s so hot in here, maybe
I’ll just shove this money
down my throat
and keel over
maybe I’ll just come
back and try again
tomorrow
Sunday, December 16, 2007
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2 comments:
I love that word, brooch. I love this poem. My grandma wore brooches. And she left me a brooch or 2. I don't know quite what to do with her brooches. Maybe I should start pinning brooches on my coat or my hat or my bosom. They have these sharp needles though. They could be useful. I could use them as weapons should I ever need one.
"She impaled him with her brooch."
i love that word, too. mostly how it looks. careful with the thing itself.
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