Monday, September 09, 2002

The good thing about trawling the too-big-to-be-digested mass that is the internet is that one occasionally comes across something wonderful. Like this poem. Want more? Go.

Hothouse Boyfriend
by Sarah Herrington

I keep picking
sunny boys
with bright faces
and tall backs
for the vase
on my kitchen table
watering can boys
that brighten rooms
with their blooms-
only later
to come home
to find piles of
I-love-you-I-love-you-nots
scattered on the floor
I keep cleaning
up this mess
vowing
next time
I'll choose a cactus
or some inconspicuous thing
grown on a rock
that knows what it is

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