JASPER QUINCE

I am nine-sided,

But One dimensional.

 

Moldy like residual buildup in vegetation,

I birth with tiny, drunken, ballerina flies,

Looking to get stone sober,

But end up stone cold.

 

Scum sucking plastic pebbles of a fish tank,

Scrubbing with tongue,

And with tongue & cheek,

I hold a wish that someday I would grow legs and arms,

With hands! So I could peel my face off the bottom’s surface,

And maybe touch the light I only ever see.

 

I am one-sided,

But Nine dimensional.

 

My thoughts cannot convey themselves,

So they approbate inside my brain, and wait to be released like a bull pen

Into the wild pitching eve.