Take a Sheet of Paper

J. Richard McLaughlin

 

Take a sheet of paper the size of a frog, and

fold it upon itself countless dozens, hundreds of times,

make head, legs, a gaggle of fingers, split of veins,

fat frog belly tumid with eggs or whatever else

a frog might be pregnant with.

 

Take a sheet of paper the size of a tree, and

fold it upon itself numberless hundreds, thousands of times,

make trunk, branches, a murder of twigs, waves of bark,

splayed veins of leaves humorous with sap or whatever else

a tree might be pregnant with.

 

Take a sheet of paper the size of a person, and

fold it upon itself infinite thousands, millions of times,

make a torso, arms, a litter of toes, copse of hair,

tropical womb simmering with child or whatever else

a person might be pregnant with.

 

Take a sheet of paper the size of the world.

               

        


J. Richard McLaughlin  lives in Boston where he is  a semi-professional jazz guitarist who endeavors to apply jazz improvisational technique to literary form.  He has been published in Ubuntu Journal and will have a piece appearing in the next issue of Breadcrumb Scabs.  His newest book of poetry, In No Particular Order, is currently under consideration for publication.

 

 

  

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