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.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s