Wildline

Paper
Poetry does tell
The trees in the garden
The rooster on the window sill
Paper

Thick, thin,
Lightweight, hard route
You can say it’s no use
And yes that may even be
True
Jazz, blues.

Dance on
Your pointed toes
Women in their pantyhose
Men in suits, wearing new
Brown boots
To Dance

Count on
Your ten fingers
Taste on your pale pink
Tongue
A man said that he wouldn’t
Run
That much

My name
It means nothing
My age it does mean less
The country I come from is
called…
Just guess

featured artwork by Arianna Hogue