he asked if i like it, i said yes, you see,
i like scissors.
been waiting an hour or so,
for words to come, although
deemed prolific, i do get stuck
some mornings.
so at just past seven
thirty, i have made the beds tidy,
washed the dishes.
bathed, dressed and perfumed,
the cheap one, everyday,
still had no words
inclined.
yes, i do like edward scissor hands,
and i do so like scissors.
my mother had one pair
that I remember, made special
with words, and to be careful
it is the only pair.
damaged later cutting a live
electric wire, she survived.
the budgie suffered.
sbm.