Posted: January 24, 1992 in Poetry
Tags: , ,

padding softly
through starry halls
lined with glass trophy cases
searching for my rubber ball
bounced once too high;
searching many interesting places.
lots of animal heads
in the glass museum.
big teeth and manes.
you can see them, all dead,
but no rubber ball.
they give me the creeps
just the same.
I have so many toys
I don’t know what to do
with them all;
guns and men and jeeps
scattered around the floors
while I’m looking
for just one.

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