If you were a kind of nest,
you'd be an open window.
You were saying something
about Sweden being a solar
system then you pointed out
the Martin houses. I imagined
all your words on red paper.
Sometimes though, it's no use.
The steam pipes are full of steam.
You're still all the animals.
I miss you. I saw you this
morning in a wall sketch
posing as a boat framed with
a pair of peep holes.
How to Talk to the Transformation Witch
Which moon
tickled your haystack,
honey? Remember,
you're lucky. Most
old galaxies look
like train wrecks.
Michael Sikkema is the author of six chapbooks, most recently Wander Rooms and Outside Noise (Grey Book Press), and May Apple Deep (Horse Less Press). He is also the author of the book Futuring (Blazevox). As one of the co-editors of Horse Less Press, he lives and writes in Grand Rapids, MI. He enjoys correspondence at Michael.Sikkema@gmail.com.
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