Trudy Pushpin


Can you smell him?
He smells like mothballs
Can you feel that net?
I was so young then
He grew old and couldn't play with them
And my brother would always give them away
To the man with the jungle in his backyard
And a train set in his garage
You see, no one drove us then,
And his mother broke her hip three times
Serves her right
Her son killed monarchs,
And other things i liked to watch fly







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