a rusty lawnmower
mowing down the embryonic
statistician
counting the dots on
the ceiling of a 63 volkswagen
sitting in the way way-back
all wool scratchy and weird smelling like
phony wool
waiting for the forest men to take
back their felt hat
-found at the edge of a treeless
circle of grass and branches but
all I wanted was a
basketball coming from the east coast
into the heat
of California
posted by catherine magma @ 1:40 PM
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