Besmirched life

And everything underneath

I hear my own voice crying

Under the anonymous

Heap,

Looking beyond the corners

Of my kitchen fridge

To find a nice snack 

So as to dine on,

Full of energy

And works are untold.

Lies lurk under laundry baskets

And you can't see your clothes

Sacrificial lambs climb up Jack's bean stalk

And my ramblings are carried away by balloons 

That I had found the last circus I went to.

 

Letters of the alphabet, as my grandmother learned so

Almost a hundred years ago,

I flip pages with delight and search among all the unknown
meanings

 

To find my self.