Boredom I used to burn leaves with a magnifying glass. Little curl of smoke lifting from the pointed tip. Some days the given world is angled, energetic, replete. Other days, I must find the magnifying glass or use Burt’s coke-bottle glasses from 4th grade again to make something else happen. Boredom would own us for as long as it took to break into a plaything with wheels or rope. Always on the lookout to change what we knew into what we must have right now-- we made forts, contraptions, gizmos from whatever we could find. An entire afternoon could burn itself open—that’s when we learned to stay out- side until darkness swallowed the trees.
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AuthorAliesa Zoecklein reads and writes poetry in Gainesville, Florida. Archives
January 2021
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