posepoem

Two Heads or What Have You



Most of my friends have two heads, or only one arm, and some of them aren't really my friends, but close enough. More than a few of them have told me things that made my eyebrows curl and smoke rise from my toes. They're my friends because they are like mirrors, and I can see myself: twelve-toed, earless, butt so fat I can't get through the door. It's helpful revelation, visiting friends. Last Tuesday, for a change of pace, I went to see this enemy of mine, and boy were my eyes opened. I'd stutter describing how peculiar he was!


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