Poem: “Scratch a Thought Here”, fr. notebooks, Jim Stallings

Scratch a thought here

And bare a fang

Losers line up

Individuals without hands—

Snow in wintertime

Food in larder

Bread in oven

Door opening to feast

Soldiers march in parades

Let me go outside to play mother’s face at window

Pained at time’s elapse

Father rounds the corner

Buzzards roost along the roof

Snakes crawl around like roots

This is how our weekends go

Just grab your socks

And don’t let go.

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Filed under American popular culture, poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

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