Lark Poem by Zac Wittstruck

Lark



What will he do?
Thought the willow tree.
This is the last straw
in the straw dispenser
You can have it.
Oh my… how…
Did it ever get
to be this existent?
No one in the room
will ever display this
to their superiors
if they ever ask
then immediately after
laugh.

What bright light
comes from the giant dim closet?
Is it a computer game
on a floppy CD?
Sorry, disk.
No, not the board game.
Of course I care for syllables.
I don't even know how to spell
it.

But off subject, I always
get messed up when
I try to write a letter
to my pen pal in Easter Island.
It's the letter x
because it is always backwards
but he just laughs really loud
and then immediately after
it ends.

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