Terra Cotta

She is fully grown, with a rainbow stripe,

nothing is as scary as what she pretends to be,

when she puts on her big-girl panties.

The collar she has is red and

screams the whole period.

It’s the worst dining experience ever.

There’s a problem with her roses,

looking like a clown with

pads of faded quality and discomfort.

We never talk about the sunset.

A tear-away face,

makes her bark.

The attic is dusty, and

peaches should taste good, but

the stone well is dry and cracked.

The weather’s changing,

and the worn out carpet

is fermenting and not frothy.

The oven is cold.

It’s the slow season at the garden, and

for those who want to swim.

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About Matthew Schroder

There is no shortage of science fiction reading here. No lack of appreciation for beards, love of coffee or obsession over blueberries.