Stuck
the dresser flaunted caterpillar knobs,
climbing as it was the walls.
the mirror wore always only itself,
a coat of light too threadbare for warmth,
while the giraffe neck lamp
claimed curious, constant danger.
a few too many light sockets
mastered their two-faced masks,
slits and half-circles in fine fettle,
caricatured to cry.
there were bears in the carpet,
wolves under the piles.
sheep hung in dark niches
from triangular gallows.
the creak of a hissy fan
ignored the stuck room,
antsy and efficient
from the blur of its guillotines.
not even cartoon fish
could escape the oceanic wallpaper,
their hollywood smiles stuck,
shades of blue-going-grey,
though
if a forehead hit the plaster,
bashing the false depth, so hard,
surely the blackout
would hear the shriek.
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