Entangled like a
string of MP3 earbuds dragged
from the depths of an overstuffed pocket
which have cleverly and inexplicably contorted
into slip
knots, granny knots and
hangman’s nooses and I waste
precious painstaking moments
unravelling unfastening undoing and unworking
each and every entanglement
before I begin trying to remember what I wanted to hear.
3 comments:
Like. Really liked it when the poem listed a few different knot types - gives it a real depth.
The idea came to me last night when I was dropping off to sleep. I was surprised it was still in my head when I woke up this morning.
Thank you.
Sounds like my telephone wires...
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