Cold Tapioca – Ken Pobo
When I told Dun Dunt that
I had fallen in
love, he served me cold tapioca.
With magic powers. I became
a large house. A new family
moved into me, opening
my doors and windows.
Two kids clattered up my stairs.
The parents bickered about where
to put the venus flytrap. I made
a frumpy house. I flopped
at being in love—whenever
I promised eternity, my cobra
watch spit numbers back.
Maybe this new love would be
different. Dun Dunt said
go slowly–summer’s door stays
open for three months.
Water seeping through a clogged drain,
I do go slowly. Maybe
someday we’ll be ready, overtake
each other’s houses, keys bent,
butter locks melting.
