Backyard of My Mind

In the backyard of my mind lives a troll with bad teeth I catch glimpses now and again Yesterday I saw his leg Tuesday I watched something vile climb out of his hair. My mother disbelieves my truths. Illusions she says, rolling her good eye up into her head. She turns into an ogre when she does this You do not have to tell her this of course. My perspective yesterday is not the same as today I see things from a flexible viewpoint The angles and boxes of my mind are not identical Changing some days from hour to hour I could explain it to you if I liked you well enough I do not think that I do, so I shall go on, traveling in the backyard of my mind searching for my invincible troll He has the best ideas anyway.