Poetinthebackroom

Craft World

Way up high above the Styrofoam Ocean,

I observe the diminutive paper boats bouncing up and down

as they head for the patchwork quilted horizon laced with tinsel stars and a woollen moon.

The milk bottle lighthouse confidently guides the way.

 

Alone outside the fabric forest,

I see matchstick creatures striking up interesting friendship with one another.

I watch as they chase each other through the paper mache trees towards the wide open cellophane lake

 

I pause to catch my breath as I rush along the plasticine freeway.

I am the only one here yet it feels anything but empty.

I examine the glitter glue dots of light that frequent the path I am taking.

I blink each time one radiantly flashes past my eyes.

I could do this all night.

 

High above this cardboard cut out city,

I watch the wax crayon cars moving around animatedly

and the miniature candle wax men and women basking eagerly in the spectacular light bulb sunlight.

I am the omnipotent observer of this manufactured, model utopia



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