The Fates of Plates
Point of view and all that’s due
white paint on ceiling reaches down
three plates on table look up to frown
dark furniture stands tall
to a child, what could be the draw?
the corner summons a lonely bug to buzz
bookshelf is naked and I wish I was
better at filling the void
like the angelic voice of Victory Boyd
tonight it’s extra tough
curled in a blanket, that’s just not enough
banana peel slouches on the edge
emotions in the couch crevices to wedge
the candle is still the sane one
memories toast, what terrible fun
armless clock ticks me off for the heck of it
the dumb silence is pitching an utter fit
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. Aspiring licensed mental health counselor. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
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Dog Number 13
May 15, 2023 Strange things are happening. Good-strange, bad-strange, and strange-strange. For starters, me and all my litter mates are able to stand. Some of us can even wiggle around in a clumsy manner. I say wiggle because it isn’t quite walking but it isn’t quite crawling. We just sort of stand and wiggle and fall and take a few steps and then crawl and then get up again. It is in this manner we are able to move around to some degree and explore our surroundings. Naturally we cannot go far. Which is ok, I suppose, because I am very small and I need my mother for food and my siblings to keep me warm and I feel very loved and comforted by them in some way, so I don’t know why I would need to go very far. Having four legs, I must admit, is very strange. It is not a surprise to me that it is challenging to coordinate them to move in the order they need to move. But I can get around a little bit, my eyes can stay open for much longer periods of time now, and it is easier to understand what is happening. So this is new.
By Morgan Longford6 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
the imagery that fills in your words is very strong today!