Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Even Her Crayons Were Lies





She threw a box of crayons at me

I didn’t even bother to duck

It wasn’t a real box of crayons

It was just the words “box of crayons”

The sequence of consonants and vowels

Uttered or typed or just imagined

They weren’t real little wax pencils

They weren’t real colors had no weight

You couldn’t smell them or draw with them

When they missed me smashed against the wall

The box didn’t split open and spill

Colored crayons all over the floor

An interesting pattern of sticks

She threw a box of crayons at me

I didn’t even bother to duck

Because an interesting pattern

Of pretty colored sticks on the floor

Would have been something real something true

Something not a lie something like art

























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