A Morning

The tiles on the floor

when I drop

snacks become

a table.

 

Some random rule about

seconds

Dive across, lunge

scoop and pop

the oval in.

 

Scruffy still sniffing

the area, destitute

assaulted when I vaulted

Gone, boy! Come, boy.

 

See fridge with me

Behold it like

a shining portal

how we stand back.

 

Without a dance

you get the sliced ham

I get a dry mouth

Whip out the Mac.

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