I need one cow to
trade for magic beans. Replace the dress with ink stains and
offer rain to the flowers.
He is two things and
I am wrists crossed with transparencies. Promise the
flowers rain for months and never follow through.
I want three of your fingers on
the dashboard so I can smash them with this book. Your
concept of hope is smaller than my understanding of
physics, and the problem is that I can’t see you.
If four magic beans
make one hundred and four miles of stalk, how many beans
do I need to get home? I don’t think I have enough cows,
and I’m trying to peel a potato with a potato.
This happens five times
faster if the wingspan is longer and the petals dry more
I give it six more
seconds, but he always comes after two. Tomorrow the
flowers will realise that you’re not giving them rain. The
crippling disappointment will be almost instantly forgotten
I sent seven poems and you
didn’t read them. If you feel you are not properly sedated,
leave your goddamn money in the bank, asshole.
I prepare eight different
rucksacks for the climb home. Each contains supplies for a
different kind of journey.
instant hot cocoa
ultra strength insect repellent
acrylic butterfly cases
Australian flag towel
neon face paint
vodka in a water bottle
There are nine people who
aren’t related to me that I would like to invite to my
birthday party. The party planner thought it was a joke. In
response, I show her how to perform taxidermy on a crow.
She says, peeling that potato would be way easier with a
potato peeler, and she hands me another potato.
Alora B. Young