you throw things at the wall
to see what sticks
hurl them with precision and watch
as each clatters to the floor
blink behind glasses like
in chemistry class
over and over
as i stand aside and say, not me -
words that slide over brick to sit
congealed you toss your two cents
that splatter like a slap in the face
and now i can fit into the box
that you call woman
YOU ARE READING
Rocket Fizz
PoesíaA collection of decidedly bad poems written by yours truly Surprisingly not really about space
