I watch her, the purple
doll so
sad so cheap so
sad, you would never want to
bed down with her or even hear her
speak, yet in that drunken place
you would
like to hand your heart to her
and say
touch it
but then
give it back
I went to the shed to look for wood.
Everything is organized and has purpose.
I take the wood that belongs to something else.
I lay it on flat ground and stand over it.
The paint I have is spare for other things.
I begin to organize an idea and shape it on the wood.
With every drop, I question…