mhall46184@aol.com
Life is an Unreliable Narrator
The typewriter misses one of its keys
Every word is an orphan, and the lines
Wither away in an unfurnished room
Above a garage infested with ghosts
Life is an unreliable narrator
The phone that isn’t connected doesn’t ring
While past-due notices fight among themselves
And on the hot plate macaroni boils
Sometimes you can see islands in the steam
Life is an unreliable narrator
You’ve got a gift; that’s what everyone said
But
Your worn-thin sleeping bag is still your bed
Life is an unreliable narrator
No comments:
Post a Comment