I asked the
The light bulbs
A washtub of ghosts, said the ball
A squeeze of light, the darling blink of darkness,
Came the second reply
The sleeping cat is a fat chance
The dollar amount is traffic
The atoms are a taste test
Genes are the mocking call
In cursive, beware
4 thoughts on “A Washtub of Ghosts”
Your poetry is always such a pleasure to read.
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Strange and beautiful. It reminds me a bit of the poetry of Charles Simic.
Thank you. Very much appreciated.