Universes opened up
When number five Bragoot
Said with jam on lower lip,
“We’ve an ocean underfoot.”
Siv and Kiks looked down
To have a dream come true,
They saw straight through the ground
To a tiny ocean blue.
A frozen sea now on the thaw,
A droplet full of flashing fin,
Awaking to the silver law
That all things do and do not end.
Siv grabbed some passing log-like loaves
That floated in from eastern shores,
She bound them with strips of her clothes
And handed out some waffle oars.
Bragoot slipped off, his picnic done,
The Rinkiks settled on the raft,
Feeding turtles bits of bun
So they wouldn’t eye their craft.
They ran up the Rinkik flag
(A Rinkik painted blue and white)
And as their bonny banner wagged
They named their ship The Happy Bite.

Once the world ended
The Rinkiks found Siv,
With all else upended
And little to give
They left where they sat
And walked their whole chunk
In three minutes flat
Just to see they were sunk.
Or sinking, at least,
(Was their rock all springs?)
From a storm to the east
(To the east were all things).
The one spring they had
Had bubbled a cloud
That turned thunder mad
And was now spitting proud.
The Rinkiks climbed up to sit on Siv’s head,
With permission of course
They brought their fine breads
And picnicked in force
Along with a newt
Who introduced himself with:
“You may call me Bragoot
Pleurodelinae the Fifth.”

Once the world ended
Universes opened up,
Few things turn splendid
Like the best of bad luck.
Siv rode a lump of her planet
Through the twinkling unknown,
But as chance would have it
She wasn’t alone.
Her clump was well loaded
With plants and their beasts
And a spring where there boated
The oldest of yeasts
Who boasted of breads
That they’d baked for king’s feasts,
Though now they preferred to make great jammy rolls
That cooled as they tumbled down to the east.
Here Siv met the Rinkiks of whom
Their hunger must be much admired,
They climbed in the rolls at their jammy bloom
And ate their way out in a manner inspired.
The Rinkiks asked young Siv if she’d stay
And she turned to herself to find out as well –
“Why, yes, I think I just may
Settle myself with you for a spell.”

“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.