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S K Garcia
Poems
Mar 2015
Like Furniture
Yellow spotted
orchid-smelling
pebble, why aren't
you blue?
Black frogs
with neon
stripes cuddle
my thick, dry
tongue.
Where has the fruit bird gone?
Red hands
from picked cherries;
Womanhood loves me.
Digest zebra leaves
from fern trees if
no pink salt is found
in green or grey eyes
of spider monkeys.
I want sand toes
standing hair
and finger spheres
spinning on touch.
Keep your triangles
but give me your dressless
dog and two teeth
from the back
of your gum.
What I mean
is like furniture
but I have no home.
My house has a home.
I am home
and also a couch.
http://vocaroo.com/i/s0o5MzwFwoFf
Written by
S K Garcia
Chicago
(Chicago)
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