Leafy
I'm sitting in a pile of leaves
waiting for the mad to comb my hair.
My eyebrows are dead butterflies.
The wind comes with sips of water.
My wife has gone
to buy a rich, heavy, fruit cake,
she will bring it home
on a pick-up truck.
I'm just okay here,
soon I will have to move though,
this day needs me to stitch it together
with a Chinese leaf blower.
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