Foraging for paperclips
On the moon
The clerk alphabetizes
Piano concertos
By tone.
Enumerates the asteroids, some standing like an upright bass.
Makes a note: a foolish nostalgia for the 1980’s is the hobgoblin for neoliberalism.
All the while on stilts with a telescope, the clerk bird watches.
Clouds in the distance like the blushing of elbow smashes.
And so foolish are these ledgers
Chances are
They’re true.
You do a wonderful job of creating alternate realities, the elements of which are both fantastical and somehow familiar.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I was a little nervous about this poem, so your comments are very much appreciated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
UsedLife is right. This is a great poem.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks! Much appreciated. Especially since I enjoy your posts.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for your kind words, naiv When reading them I have been about to suffer a minor affective disorder, of a pleasant type. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people