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Lesson In Geography

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Poetry with Grant

Bottom Bunk
I crawl back inside the womb
The bottom bunk

The landscape is: blankets
In the bottom bunk

I'm at the mercy of the roads
And at the hands of dust
Worry fills my chest and mind
But in Kelly's external hard drive I trust

So I'll lay still and quiet, alone
My voice, my eyes, my ears: my phone
Will her cold clutches soon release me?
The bottom bunk she be

Well, my eyes have adjusted
I hope its not busted
The bottom bunk that is.

-Grant McKinnon

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