“Walk a mile in my shoes,”
I’ve been told so many times.
So I do, then get accused
Of some pretty petty crimes.
A mile’s a long way
But I walk as I’m told,
Then leave the shoes there
And continue my stroll.

Her toes walked off her foot,
Nose lost itself to sneezes,
Fingers tapped themselves away,
Knees knocked themselves to pieces,
Stomach ate itself,
Lips licked themselves all gone,
Eyes saw themselves out,
Mind thought itself done.

I’ve never lost at hide-and-seek
So that must be what happened.
It’s either that or something bleak,
To make sure no one cheats I peek!

We’ll miss her, sure,
But if she vanished she cheated
And I’m still undefeated.

Puzzle pieces never fit
No matter how you struggle
To jam them into place
When they’re to a different puzzle.

He stood up tall.
He stood up straight.
He told us all
That he was great.
He stood and looked
So good he shook
Our hands and said,
“You’re living luck!
You have me here!
Go on ahead!
Now March! Now run!
You’ve almost won!”
He had us hooked.
He stood and led
And looked so good
Right where he stood.

He did it all except
He never took a step.

One time I fell right through my bed
(Some things you just do once),
All pillows, blankets, comfort fled,
I joined the Nightland hunts.

No one told what I pursued,
I did not need to know.
This was not my fearsome feud,
I did not earn or owe.

Some something filled my fists with stars,
I swallowed them all whole.
I’d never send them into wars
No matter the end goal.

Caught by another’s roaming dream
I soared in place a while,
I gave up all my stars agleam
And skipped out on the trial.

Then I fell back into bed,
Still just a bit ajar,
Pulling from my swirling head
One final hidden star.

I send in outvites every year
To those I don’t want coming near
Anything I ever do.

This outvite here’s addressed to you.

She called herself a Bibliophage
But you could call her Bib.
She ate up all her toothsome books
Down to spine and ribs.

Bib brought a bookish appetite
To all she ever read.
She’d house a gloried story sandwich
With covers as the bread.

She’d sip from pages of all ages,
Ink coursing through her veins,
Ink sinking down into her feet,
Ink leaving footprint stains.

Bib stewed and steeped in inky tales,
Seeping in her twinkling mind,
Leaving her prints around the world
In the biggest book you’ll ever find.

With scrumptious books at hungry lips
And world at roaming feet,
Bib wrote a wide and worldly story
For someone else to eat.

When you tire of making sense
Go make some other things
That widen the world with suspense
And wild our stone kings.

Sownso mailed herself to herself
And travels now for free.
No post office has found her yet
To complete delivery.

Through snow, rain, heat and gloom of night
Worked mail women and men,
They looked everywhere outside that box
But never once peeked in.

At last they quit and returned to sender
So she travels still for free,
For they can’t find her the opposite route
As I’m sure you already see.

Sownso’s a pioneer, though not all agree.
Whatever people have to say
She’ll never stop to hear a word,
She’s forever on her way.

The quickest way to bliss?
One to do –
Lose this list.

A better way than this?
Lose yourself –
You’re dismissed.