Ours’ is an Open House – Day 21

GloPoWriMo 2019

Day 21 Prompt: a poem which incorporates wild, surreal images. Try to play around with writing that doesn’t make formal sense, but which engages all the senses and involves dream-logic.

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Picture per Pexels

 

Ours’ is an Open House

 

Trees growing at such a rate they scratch at the window

with a language that says crash, crash; ‘Now let the tigers in;”

one tiger at this window and one tiger over there. What does

a happy tiger smell like? I know what he feels like. I can sense

his deep purring.

 

We open the door, “Come in,” I say to the giraffe who arrived

by yet another way. However, he can’t quite make it. Which, was

a shame said he. And because it was wishful thinking on his part

the roof lifted right out of his way. He was much harder to read

as he now strolled front door to back.

 

The Tigers are laughing, so pleased with events are they.

 

Come back the tigers and I call. But he’s out of here. Crash went

the windows again as the tigers took off after the giraffe.

I thought I knew the smell of fear. But not when it’s a giraffe.

 

“And that,” I say, “is the last time we’ll hold Open House.”

 

Benita H. Kape © 21.4.2019

 

We have neither tigers nor giraffes in my country so this has to be surreal.

 

 

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