Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Poetry Tuesday: An Imaginary Tantrum


Un-True Story

Juice box straw broke the camel's back.
We both say please.  The shorter, cuter one wins.
She's sunny; I feel my own rumble.
Balled hands could bite the dirt in rage.
Shod feet remember how to stamp.
Someone over thirty is shouting in my head:
"I want juice, too!" She calls it, "Elmo,"
And isn't even three.
So that must be me.

Receipt through fence 3

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