Jeff Connelly Poet I do not know?

Potty Timing

sit down and sit
until it happens
but her mind is
on playing in the
rain with a yellow
umbrella

she gets carried
away with the
wind and in
her mind
she is
flying

so far above
that the cars
seem to be
ameba as
do the
cabs

yellow cells
following the
city's blood
stream
streets
but

the red
green and
yellow signals
trigger in her a
Christmas tree but
she still hasn't gone

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