Free Verse

I had a box of random words but dropped them on the tile,
And when I swept them up again I cast them in a pile.
I didn’t try to sort them out or even make a rhyme;
I labeled the whole pile “free verse” and gave it no more time.

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The Trolls

They hide out in the parking lot in plateless brand-new cars
And listen to my merest whispers–have you got full bars?
They follow me in traffic like some lovesick brontosaur
And whisper unsweet nothings–that you talking, commissar?

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