Sunday, November 29, 2020

by george i think i've got it

she fiddles with the lock.
a screw driver
in hand.
a pair of pliers.
she's  in her underwear,
her thick
wool socks
with little christmas
trees
upon them.
she closes the door,
then opens it
back up.
she squeaks a little
oil
onto the hinges,
into the slot. 
at last, she folds
up the paper instructions
and smiles.
by george, she says.
i' think i've got it.

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