There once was a man with a poodle,
He dreamed the dog ate oodles of noodles.
When we awoke, he thought it was a joke,
Until he saw them stuck to the dogs coat.
Though he was relieved, he hadn't dream the poodle at his apple streudal.
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The Sound That Carries Me
When I lie in bed, the train always finds me. The wheels slam against the tracks, loud and unforgiving, like something inside me that never learned how to rest. The horn cuts through the dark in broken intervals. Too close, too real, impossible to ignore. It drags me back to the fields of my childhood. Back when I thought life was simple. It wasn't. I just didn't have the language for how heavy it already felt. I was small, trying to survive things I didn't know how to name yet.
By Sarai Jakubczak5 days ago in Poets
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