poor ol mama, we miss you much we miss you so so much. (Free verse) by skaskowski
i know this raft is slats of human fat
strapped together.
i figured it out when i slid my finger
between the beams and strings.
i pulled it out coated in shiny, salty
sauces.
the oars have grown oily in the process.
my sanity dangles from these flosses
used to coax finicky fish into feeding.
let's see if anyone else bites tonight.