Poetic Attempts

Backwards
Bones crack to the feeling of strange pain
A distant snowflake crosses paths with an empty space
And I stare willingly at it
Never mind the freakish nature of the motion
Or the misunderstanding that the tree has with the wind
I will stand there and pretend to be still
But leaves crush against the palm of my emotions
As I jump into the stack laughing as if physics can't stop me
Genetics don't play a single role in any of it
Biology is not the issue here
The tree knows the snow no matter the elemental commonality
And what's the difference btw anyway
When age happens we all live through the grimy dirty roots and regenerate something we can't manipulate
So why can't we just dig up the grass and start fresh
The snow drifts though and the paths shift
I can only really control my own footprints and the way I step into it
Angrily cautiously tip toeing and exhaling hot breath into cold air
It's so backwards the way it all goes sometimes

A Refrigerator
A refrigerator has feelings.
So does soap.
And lamps.
If you asked a bar of soap how he/she is doing it would tell you.
I don't know what it would tell you but it could legitimately have an emotional attachment to you or something here in this present moment.
I don't have to imagine it.
I don't have to imagine much b/c quite frankly it all is possible and it's not really worth any one's time if you are going to doubt me right now so don't.
I don't need the drama or general unimaginativeness.