and If you had found me
at any other time aside from 1:57pm on a Tuesday
I'm sure something could have gone
BOOM through the window
But if I am as I appear, an octagon,
and if I have been for quite some time...
How many sides show up when I step
into uselessly crowded bars?
How many as I take a seat across from you?
I digress, no,
allow me to elaborate;
Let's say for a moment that I am an unappealing
horizon line which contains a lime tree blooming
magnificently in the middle. There are so many
vantage points from which one can view a horizon
and somehow the measurement of your perfect little
legs brought you to exactly 37 degrees without
What am I attempting to tell you?
Not that I am two dimensional but perhaps
that I am TOO dimensional.
I have been unfolded in a matter of days.
Spread across the oak table, read, and
received some pretty decent reviews.
Do not give me a second read.
The pages are toilet thin due to budget
cuts in the publishing company.
Stealing your metaphor was the only
way to properly convert my marble into ink
and for this I apologize sincerely
The Blooming Bead Trees of New Orleans:
by Kristin Fouquet