October 3
plastic skull
i kick around rocks and a plastic skull
bounce down the hill until it catches on weeds
the thistle sits thick, grasping tightly
foot failing to knock it free
who was i to ever kick it
instead of holding it dearly
to care is to value
and now it’s too late
the indents are certain and the scratches are set
i slip and i stomp it to flatness
plastic skull rendered into a two dimensional image
of the cheap sullen face i am guilty of making















