habitutal mice.diary

With the nightlight blown out on the chalk pits 

the stabled fur sent roadside to be 

Stitched with every ode that didn’t make

the screenplay.

—-

on the empty wheel gazing at shoes 

as whistling scenery of a paper weighted 

world that’s does not feature the means 

to reinforces a end.

—-

the tea rung leafs curling on a straining 

Chain that’s dripping with thoughts or

just the words that’s a pourable tea sea.

—-

With a look that’s as still as the morning 

and the triads dispute is staved in stacked doubt 

needling you about feathered Boots 

Awaiting repair.

—-

explanations as holed as the swear jar

A magnetic field of railway crocus 

Usually reserved for habitual sleeping mice.

 —-

the scattering of rice drinks that are as spilt 

As the piñata of confection lines swinging 

In the acorn laden tree.