by Sarah Henry
Some people like mountain climbing.
I think it's a dangerous waste.
The black comic in Philly glowers at me.
Bayonets.
I want to thrash through
the fields of a Southern clime.
This is the true meaning of adventure.
Sugar cane.
I eat a bowl of nuts at my table.
Pistachios.
I stray.
Everyone is getting younger
everywhere I go.
My stomach shrinks.
Wringer washer.
I give the club a panning shot.
Danger is crawling up my legs.
Fire ants.
They say coffee causes brittle bones.
Fractures.
I wanted to keep a guy on a rope
but he bounced away.
Tether ball.
Everyone is getting younger.
The talent here is younger.
The waitresses are young and dishy.
It would be nice to be a high school
success story and prove them all wrong.
I want to hear the sound of two poeple
playing ping pong in an ice palace.
Skating forward.
The checks are going down.
Showing posts with label Sarah Henry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarah Henry. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
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