I’ve noticed, today, that
I gotta write
with my shoes off—
with my bare naked
happy toes
wiggling hello
to the world;
else this mirror soul
be closed til June
til the bird whistles come
back outta tree holes
outta creaky rolltop desks
that they’ve chucked outta grandma’s
house to the side of the street
for a Tuesday pickup.
When I write with my toes out
I write with my soul out
with my teeth bare
my hair in full swish—
important ingredients
in this cake I bake
in this oven I made
with a pile of sticks
from the alleyway.
Fun! This makes me happy
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😀 I’m glad!
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