Eyes
Eyes
Embarrassed, ashamed, of
my alphabetical brown eyes I’m
not! My eyes adjust easily to
different clear sound waves. Some
sound waves desire venomously to
change the temperature to
ad infinitum cold to
fit a new purpose – collect, bath in,
my anger for
the cold so they can
use it to
power electrical things. They’ll never be able to sustain it for long! When I dilute my eyeballs with boiling water all sizes of
cupboards appear in
the kitchen of
poor peoples’ homes.
Copyright © Matthew Herfurth | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment