8 Jul 2013, 7:04pm
Writing
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Copyright

Your purse is a tyrant
It demands to be snatched
It has things inside it—almost things
It says here they are, come and grab me
Not just the usual things but
receipts, pencils, candybars
Things like that

Your purse has a strap on it that looks like a feather
No one can grab a feather
It would just go on hunting the end of itself
Forever

I wish your purse was a van
I would snatch you and put you in it and drive away
No one would call the cops because
your phone is in your purse

I keep thinking about your purse
and my mind is not really mine anymore
Your purse has it
It’s down there with all the little scraps and loose ends,
receipts and pencil tips, half eaten candybars
candy wrappers
and throat lozenges
Remarkable stuff in your purse

I know if I wanted
I could put my hand inside your purse
Drag my knuckles across the leather-bottom
and just pull everything out
You know
It would be so much lighter for you that way
You wouldn’t miss anything
that wasn’t there in the first place

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