Page 22 - Demo

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On eggshells
Who would be an egg Who could help it? Weighted dizzy, all head, And everyone baited For your weird death Any second!
Holding you is like the Near-sleep body pitch — The instant you know You’ll never
Be ready Nor steady.
Logan at Five Begins
Every story with a warning: “And you won’t believe it—”
As if that must be true. As if he knows the soft
Trouble of my heart’s Disease or
The dangers of dismissing Some inevitable wonder.
Logan at last Reaches the end
Of his drifting anecdote.
It is about the colors of a bug
He saw, the words up
And out his cheshire mouth
Like the haunt of new Life his sad mother
Five years ago
Simply could not believe.
Karina Van BerKum