January 3, 2012
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The word sounded sour on my
I let it roll like a marble in my
I imagined it falling from the sky, as if

But, then I saw this word
Wouldn’t fall from the sky
or clank like a marble

It would hop like the
little brown bird
That eats your crumbs when your head is
It would be that cloud that hides among
the clouds
The one more color at the bottom of the
Maybe the pacific atoll that resides by other
small islands

I tried to touch the word
But it hid
With all the other I’s and big words
It flitted through my brain
With the thousands of thoughts
Just one more jar on a dusty shelf
After a high and low search
Where I became the jar next to the word

I caught it and pinned it to the


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