Oh Dear

I seem to have burnt my envelope, oh dear.
Now how could that have happened?

I rolled out of bed, put the iron on a curtain,
then oh…

Now the house is gone.
Family too. Went to Pittsburgh.
I have to clean this for myself.

Well, I’ll probably just hire someone;
a contractor with a crew and equipment.

I’ll go to a hotel, eat the chocolate
on my pillow. I hope it’s filled with mint.


Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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