Author Information
To sit in a corner
1000 blue balloons
float by on a dieing
wind
and caress my inner
depth and persona
with their rubber
souls.
The wooden chair
Im on twiddles
its splinters like
a spinner, forming
them into a cosmic
web of oak and ash.
It aches to release
just one, to hear the
releasing sound of an
air filled explosion.
My fingernail chips at
plaster on the wall,
wishing I could be
chipping away at a
beach
and caressing the
balloons, protecting them
from my seat, my throne.
Alas, my chair is much too strong,
alas, my beach is empty.
I sit in a chair, in a corner,
idling on the empty beach that
is sanity, listening to the waves
that are common sense.
I wish I had an apple
or an orange rihgt now.
