The Crush
Breathe out,
and it swells,
solid, firm-seeming,
translucent and squeaky.
It clings to your clothes,
and the belly of your cat.
Let go,
and it zooms
round the
room,
blatting.
Ignored, it drifts
into a corner,
becoming flaccid.
Blustery and fra-
gile, a pinprick
can burst it.
Breathe
in.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(I hope you are going to play along this year. I love your poetry.)
no subject
no subject