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July Poem-a-day 10 and 11

24 July 2012

Yes, I’m still going! Yesterday’s poem was from these words: slot, best, random, fence, and apple, and doesn’t make much sense.

It’s generally the purple
ones that don’t fit in
the slot. At best, they
slide halfway in, then get
stuck. Must be time
to tear down the fence
and build a new one.
If we don’t, the apples
might randomly start
growing in its place.

And today’s are from these words: wing, resume, walk, ego, and juts, and the challenge was to write about being sick.

I curl up under your wing
and let my ego walk away
down the dirt path where
we strolled earlier today.
My elbow juts into the cushions
at a funny angle but I
don’t care enough to readjust.
Your fingertips soothe my
achey head and I breathe
through my mouth; my nose
impossible to clear.
Tomorrow I may resume
feeling good but for now
I’ll submit and wallow
in feverish pity.

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