Otto Chan
thrice the short stem
cut stem grow into a vine
crawls into a pot and bloom into five
stems research on the counter turning
pink water screens its caramel cup filled
with sleepy time
post-its stuck like sap when sliced
soil spots on the bracket of my mind
spoons in dirt into a cup and babies will bloomcorn dogs grow on sticks I say and i eat two more
stem- icks, stem-icks…
I get bored of waiting so I get up and crawl into the skin
of others and see what they’re blooming and into five blondes
air heads screen nothing but fill up with tabloids
it’s time to go when the clock hitslook up
nothing
time
set
cut stem and go.
