It’s important to know the difference
between being invisible
and being a ghost. As a child
I passed through so many walls
before my mother corrected me.
I’d sit up straight at the table,
eat my fried chicken, put the bucket
on my head and pretend to be a lamp.
The smell of the chicken passed through the walls.
It wasn’t a ghost, but it did haunt my clothes.
It was also contagious, even more so than hunger.
I never slept. At night
I’d poke enough holes in my head
to create the effect of stars on the ceiling.
|Copyright © 1999 – 2020 Juked|