What Big Eyes You Have

Only today did I notice the abyss

in abysmal and only because my mind

was generating rhymes for dismal,

and it made of the two a pair,

to which much later it joined

baptismal, as—I think—a joke.

I decided to do nothing with

the rhymes, treating them as one does

the unfortunately frequent appearance

of the “crafts” adults require children

to fashion from pipe cleaners

and plastic beads. One is not permitted

to simply throw them away,

but can designate a drawer

that serves as a kind of trash can

never emptied. I suppose one day

it will be full, and then I will know

it is time to set my child free.

The difficulty is my mind leaks

and so it will never fill, despite

the clumps of language I drop in,

and this means my mind can never

be abandoned in the woods

with a kiss and a wave

and a little red kerchief

tied under its chin.