fruitcake lunchbox.
just like every day
i take my lunchbox
you know
the one with the green chickenapple on it
as always
i grab it with my right hand
since i'm lefthanded
and i linger my way to the schoolbus
it's waiting for me at the corner of my street
it's grey and big and is vomiting something
just as grey as itself.
maybe itself?
and it takes me there every day
to the place where i meet the sweet poeple
but sometimes it takes me to the wrong place
to the place and people i don't want to meet
and it gets awkward
quiet and stiff
nobody wants it
but then again...
no.
but as always i don't know
and when i don't know
i take my hijacked plane and escapes
i escape to the place where i love it all.
especially the fish up on the hill
that is who i love the most
so i always bring a jar of that delicious fishfood
then it gets happy
och and lets me pet it on it's stomach
that makes me forget about everything else
all the sweet people and them
and the grey
and the spinach.
Poetry by kathleen
Read 870 times
Written on 2006-09-05 at 21:49
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