Jumanji

a group poem

 

Trunk packed and ready for nowhere,

Manuscript tells stories in spots and dashes called songs.

Song list on the lampbase doubling as a microphone,

The man looks lonely and lost

As though he’s taken one last look before leaving

It reminds me of Jumanji.

What is the lion doing in the house with a police hat on?

The light is on and it’s already daytime.

The boundary line between the man and the lion:

The antique collector’s lounge.

            This is one scary cat.

            He dominates the room.

This is the lion’s domain,

The man is his pet

It’s a jungle in there,

       This strange man’s den.

Cat in a hat.

There’s a dog wearing a cop hat.

The dooryard echos of an open suitcase.

 

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