Cabin
Like most of us who read
And write poetry
I dream of living in the woods
And keeping a journal of my thoughts
I could build a cabin
With my bare hands
And live off the land
Foraging for psilocybin mushrooms
My vocabulary expanding faster
Than the universe and I
Invent new words to
Describe all of the crofeculent
Tramptules that invade
My ever expanding mind
Mind you, that squirrel is
Looking at me funny
Funny the way it seems
To be taunting me
Please excuse me
I think I need to
Punch it in the face
Thoughts
Maybe I could pop my cabin somewhere in this picture? Yes, that would be quite agreeable.
© John Monaghan 2025. All Rights Reserved
