Piolet of
The garden
enjoys the
fruits of his labors.
Hanging low in his
jet to grab some
yellow socks from
the tree of the monkey.
now faster and faster
he flies
eating up the
slippery goo
of sweet yellow mush.
now, he arrives
in a different dimension
offering scraps of his plane
to the metallic dogs
of Mars.
poemsforthepeople.com/appointments
Copyright © William Poem | Year Posted 2025
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