3 Poems Jessy Randall
Rich People's Umbrellas
Rich people's umbrellas
look different from my umbrellas.
They have fancier umbrellas.
They have cats and other shit on their umbrellas.
Like sometimes I see umbrellas
with little cats holding little umbrellas
on them. This makes me want to take all the umbrellas
and stick them up the rich people’s
umbrellas.
Potato Fingers
A disappointed and singed tale climbs over
potato fingers, sticky porcupine quills
(someone spilled Kool-Aid on the porcupine)
and falls into a pool of what’s so obvious:
first spring days, before I ever knew you
when the air smells like melting snow and
the kids run out of school to the buses
Fat Arms Haiku
fat arms fat arms fat
arms fat arms fat arms fat arms
fat arms fat arms fat
Rich People's Umbrellas
Rich people's umbrellas
look different from my umbrellas.
They have fancier umbrellas.
They have cats and other shit on their umbrellas.
Like sometimes I see umbrellas
with little cats holding little umbrellas
on them. This makes me want to take all the umbrellas
and stick them up the rich people’s
umbrellas.
Potato Fingers
A disappointed and singed tale climbs over
potato fingers, sticky porcupine quills
(someone spilled Kool-Aid on the porcupine)
and falls into a pool of what’s so obvious:
first spring days, before I ever knew you
when the air smells like melting snow and
the kids run out of school to the buses
Fat Arms Haiku
fat arms fat arms fat
arms fat arms fat arms fat arms
fat arms fat arms fat
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