This is
not a prelude.
This is
not
an introduction.
This is the
way things are.
A. possum
the morning's
sweet little birds
are killing me.
peck.
peck peck.
B. elemental
wood is my
favorite element.
paper is mine.
it’s not an element.
it comes from wood.
C. what to wear?
another bad dream
(gaping maws
yellow gears)
and he awoke
determined
not to have
another.
his head: cold.
remembering
all his hats:
my hats!
where
are all
my fucking
hats?
D. we used to talk
this place is the
opposite of that.
it's where they
clone insects
E. sniper
long
long
arms.
he was never
dismembered
in a former
life.
someone held
a gun out
in the dining room--
a big pistol--
and the
gangly man
sprang out
from within
the china cabinet
hands up
and pleading:
it's not true
that I
could be
anywhere.
I have to
be here!
F. the end
this is
not
a road.
this
is not
a tree.
this is
not
milk.
this is
not
a shoe
a dog or
a stump.
this isn’t
a game.
tell me
what you
see.
#weeklypoemandpic
Art courtesy of F. Shils.