Untitled Sunday

 

The groundlings sip a teastone
Purple fingers run from half-mice
Inertia steps away
Cream flows from the eyes
of March. I’m apart from the teaming leaves.
Corduroy skies and stuffy bees
                                hide my lies from thee.

 

Written by
Riley & Roxanne

-A poem blindly written while eating at Marie Callender’s.