Wednesday, July 29, 2009

More Hitchcock

by Joseph Bradshaw

The mouse in my pocket isn’t mine 
But I can keep it for awhile. 
It is lovely, I can pet it. 
It feels like Alfred’s chubby lips.   

Was that a mouse in my pocket? 
I don’t remember it.
One time I thought I had a fire on my leg.
Now just watch me writhe, walking my body.

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