be careful when you invite new metaphors into your fresh built box of a poem.
a small house is perfect or a poet that has few silver words left in their pocket.
lower case is cheaper than uppercase.
as you nail penny-nails with your wobbling flat head hammer; simpleness into all your lines.
be careful metaphors can act like miniature tigers.
some of the metaphors want to start problems to scratch at your floorboard & swing from your curtains with their sharp retractable claws & climb on your window panes & leave their nose-prints impressed on each window in each of your stanzas.
take the broom & chase the troublesome ones out past the door jams of your poem.
keep the few metaphors that are asleep at the hearth.
the similes you scattered as a homecoming blessing turn into see-through butterflies & flap their wings in symmetry of beats up the wainscot
the sparrow of your voice awakes on the swinging perch of your small simple birdcage & begins to chirp & the symbols hiding in the nooks & crannies come to your table to steal crumbs & slices of green cheese that you have sliced quietly from the moonrise slowly forming like onion skin in the lightbulb you keep dutifully hidden in your head.
symbols squeak and the metaphors dream of goldfish swimming in the periods the little bowls you place in kindness at the ends of your stanzas.