11.November.18


“Oh, dear.” is what this deer thinks when only half the lawn is scrumptiously green. “Why cannot those kids on demyships earn some extra cash watering down this brown?”

Looking through window the other day, lots of numbers and symbols were scraped in white. I wondered, “Does math place my spots or is it explained by pataphysics’ theory knots?”

Shadows may hide me from threats of arrow and bow, but this soft-as-velour shies not away from light as sharpened crown instills a valorous identity: “I do not bite; I gouge!”

“This is not the deer for whom you are looking.” will be the response if my brothers come for me–offering armistice. I know who switched my ivy for sumac and, yes, I can turn to glows any nose. ; )

Categories: Melange

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