Feel the rumble, so humble
In my floppy toque. Puppies
Peek-a-boo from black sacks
And I can't eat the snacks
On this one o clock cloud ride.
Cinnamon and honey, don't
Have the money to buy jeans
That fit- funeral for a snowman
And holes in my mitts.
And I lit candles last night
Power went out and I called
You in the dark. Empty line.
Empty lines fill the spaces
In me- airport free and wish I
Could be under plush covers
With you- had the flu last week;
So weak in bed as I mended;
Pretended someone was making
Liptons in the other room.
Touchdown soon before the moon
Rises and the sky loonie cashes
Away- leaving the grey and into
Cold blue. I'm bold, it's true but
Flash me a smile and I'll tremble
Empty lines run the races where
Coconut trees sway and drop
Their fruit and their faces
Toot of a tricycle horn
As the rules are torn and we
Grow as weeds on borrowed ground
Found a pattern last week and sewed
Wings on my arms-lucky charms
In the mucky snow Wednesday
Blowing bubbles in my tea as I
Pondered your lips on the nape of
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