I’m straight with you.
When it rained I ran across town
and it did rain and I did run
to fly-tip all the sad.
I grew my hair out just to run
in the rain.
I wore a white shirt for the storm.
Bolts whip-cracked the kerb
and a smooth fragment is a good
paperweight. I’m straight with you
when I’m holding papers down.
You wanted a good
paperweight story. Well this one
practically leapt into my arms,
red-hot and writing off
my good hand.
Featured image via juponline.pt
