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The raven picks at the garbage
Bag on the side of the road
She chews at the plastic
Rips it open with her beak
Out pours rotting gold
Her cache, nest egg, treasure
Trove of wasted remains
She sifts through the straws,
Used napkins, brown bags,
Leftover peels, scraps, debris
For the sweet morsels of meat
Protected like pearls in the ruffage
She feasts at the side of the road
Unafraid - no one can touch her
The princess shaves her armpits
Everyday because if she doesn’t
The people will whisper
About the dark stains under her arms
Whenever she fixes her crown
Sometimes I imagine standing beside a river
And slipping.
I’m swallowed by the water
Dragged by the current to the edge of the cliff
Where the river dips
And I can see nothing beyond it but a mist
Like gates guarding the entrance to whatever lies beyond
I’m just about to scream when the river
Covers my mouth with its cold hands
And escorts me through the gates
If I sketched her without wings
would you be able to tell
she’s an angel?
The sky behind her would be pale yellow
The world below, gray
Like the color of the outline of her frame
I’d describe her face as angelic
Which is supposed to give it away
But maybe you’d only say she looks nice
I don’t know how to dance
Never learned
Never thought I’d need to know
So you led me, gently, at first
We started out simple and easy
like a bite of sponge cake
A one and two and three and four and
It felt good to glide across the linoleum floor
Light as a feather
Like I weighed nothing at all
You don’t understand despair
Even when you’re in it
Feels like you’re drowning -
In everything you feel
And don’t have the words to express
Eberhardt Apr 2017
There is a doll in
a little brick house
with satin tights
and her shirt tucked in
and she is smiling
because the machine
that made her
carved a smile into
her plastic head.
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