Recollecting The Again A boy in bed uses two fingernails to scratch away flowers in the wallpaper. Not because he hates flowers. It's the wallpaper he can't stand. That, and the notion of something stuck to something else is what sets him adrift. By morning, the area around the bed looks like October. The old thumbnails as a chisel routine works again. But now, there's this puky-colored wall underneath. The baseboard has become a dying fishpond or try turning 80 degrees in the starboard direction to avoid the low-hanging mountains. Later, he'll spend all of ten-minutes pecking out his emotions on a piano or take the sideshow on a passing boxcar he never climbs aboard. Either way, his mind will be free to wander every whichway, using the unabridged version.
Maurice Oliver
If you've any comments about this poem, Maurice Oliver would be pleased to hear from you.