Mystery bruise
on the back of my hand
how did it get there?
I don't understand.
I keep looking at it and thinking of cheesy poems. I tried to take a picture of it, in case it went away and I needed to write a bad poem, but the bruise didn't show up in the picture. In fact, my hand looked young and lovely, not all crusty and old and covered in crazy scars like it is for real. I think I may have acquired this giant bruise from a fight with a vampire. And know I wish that I would have watched an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer so I could understand these things. I've only seen 5 minutes of the show before- Buffy was beating the life out of John Ritter. Oh! how we all laughed. We are not laughing now.
Hey, a bruise! I wonder where that came from?
mystery bruise
you are still there
purple brown and yellow
but I'm not aware
of how you got where
you are
unless the ghost of John Ritter came in with a hammer or I started walking in my sleep again and tripped over the legos that are covering my floor. How'd the bottom of my foot get cut? Is it a sign? What does it mean? o, mystery bruise.
"To the right of the spot where I played
eraser chicken in fourth grade
and just above one of the fire ant scars
there you are,
like a cameo
I'll name you Kenneth."
"What are we making, Bran?"
"Why, Kenneth, we are making NACHOS."
"nachos... nachos... say it"
"leave me alone or I'll go get some vitamin E!"
"you can't! I'm your muse"
"Oh yeah?"
I don't have the rest worked out yet.
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selfish, selfish, selfish
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