The Haunt

It's A Predicament

You come to me weird,
all squirmy and squash, loose lipped
and gray. I'm weary
and bemused by you,
unsure what to do with your
in my face waggles.
It would be easy
I guess if you weren't my haunt.
You stay in my head
and wriggle your way
all through my chest making rooms
and furnishing them.

September 26, 2010 11:52 PM
Modified August 25, 2014

Hmmm. This poem is actually totally changed in order to keep the image and poem consistent. The original poem went like this:

You come to me hard,
all angles and brusque, stiff lipped
and stern, and wary.
I'm bemused by you,
unsure what to do with your
in my face posture.
It would be easy
I guess if you weren't my haunt.
You stay in my head
and wriggle your way
all through my chest making rooms
and furnishing them.

And while the original poem was self-consistent, have you ever tried to find a haunt that is hard and brusque, stiff lipped and stern, all angles and taking an in your face posture? Oh man, what an order! Now you get to decide if you want to which haunt is more terrible.