Three Sheets

to the wind, we are
but wandered wisps
of why, stum
-bled punch drunk
wonder seeds scattered
in the sun.

of paper, we are un
-parched, meant for
more than thirst and
first scrib
-bled thought, caught
in ivory storm.

of music,
we are strum-
hummed and hemmed by
trebled sleep
steeped in our own sigh
………………….ย -lence.



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2 Responses to Three Sheets

  1. Shawna says:

    So much love for this.

    You know, it makes me giddy when you stick in all those “s” words, ’cause you know I like to play. Like, you put my tummy in there. ๐Ÿ™‚ And my heat(s) and eats and cat-tears and “un” … and even my crib … which might be my “house,” or you might be calling me a baby. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    strum = street rum (yum) … and street is also s treat

    I adore the idea of having trebled sleep instead of troubled sleep! Plus, sleep = s leap. Hee hee.

    But then you got a little awkward here: “steeped in our own sigh” … which obviously is me TPed inside your eye(s). ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Also, we three (kings) are drinking at the beginning. But also, we’re ghosties, and our sheets are made of dandelion wishes … we’ve been blown, so we’re floating off into the land of who-knows-where-magic-goes-when-it-reaps.

    why stum = wisdom … that is ingenious

    I could really go for some doctored-up punch. That sounds yummy.

    wonder-seeds … love that; also the sun/son of paper … hmmm, if the father of paper is trees, then the son of paper would be trash … shreds … discarded or forgotten poems; how sad is this

    made for more than tea-here stand … this has to do with holding your pink(y) finger just right and “behaving” properly for guests or anyone watching us; it gets a little old, doesn’t it?

    I love how you ended it: “steeped in our own sigh-lines.” Brilliant … connected to side-lines. We’ve had it with sitting on the bench. We’re getting in the game to play, yo. ๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. M says:

    love the close ~

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