Poem 8. That Guy (A Gigan)

He doesn’t keep things forever.
Not pets nor people, Christmas tree bulbs

Nothing is an heirloom to him
but his mirror image
and triple length self publications.

He’s a tricky throw awayer
with his darting eyes, his clever lines

“Oh, you didn’t want that, did you?
It looked so old and worn.

I threw it out for you.”
He doesn’t keep things forever.

He’s a tricky throw awayer,
slight of tongue and quick hair check
all but himself out the door.

Dogs and cats and comfy chairs…
a woman called a fish.

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