The secret to robbery is stealth.
Not that I’m any expert, of course. I never steal. Mostly. That’s what I say to anybody who asks me. They say, “Maple, do you steal?”and the answer I always give is a confident “No!” But if you, a human, threaten to dig up all my hoarded pecans unless I answer honestly this question, “Maple, do you steal?” I admit that my answer will be different.
like an island it stands in a corner black scratched and worn
piled high with stuff I dont even know how it got there or why its there now
all i know is that its there Continue reading
pick it up
sniff it so it smells like something sweet and honorable
feel the spines like dragon’s scales
over fiery yellow and forest green
pineapple has false armor
and colors glow like a tree in the sun. Continue reading
Inspired by my young chicken named Trixie. This poem is for her.
When Trixie walks
Trixie waddles
With Trixie’s own
Wobbling wobbles.
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