The background of our pictures are filled with flying irons
The barbies are soaring over our heads and crawling the the dead branches
Our hair is the focus of our pictures
But just out of focus the skateboards paint themselves and hit on girls walking by
The tree got up and walked to 7 Eleven to buy me some smokes
I had run out while waiting for my hair to die.
The tiny doors and tiny windows open like mouths when you come near
Inviting their swallow
Stepping from block to block in the yard they lick at your feet and tickle your toes
Careening forward with coffee in hand you stumble through the front door
Books have deep voices and newspapers speak in munchkin voices in order to make the news more fun
Water from the faucet comes out in rainbows and the refrigerator yawns
As if another cream cake was boring it
Warms hand wraps around your own and place something cold and plastic in them
you’re suddenly back outside and I’m here smoking my cigarettes
taking a drag you glance down into your hand
You have a tarot card, a chocolate coin, a mini red figurine, a 2 of clubs and some glitter.
I smile with teeth that are rainbows and fade back into the bushes as you watch
The house gets up and walks away.