12 April 2005 | Vol. 5, No. 1
The bed shuffled itself straight out the door,
little jerky movements on squeaky casters,
until one leg planted itself in the flowerbed.
The dust ruffle was bunched,
leaving the tender leg exposed
in Victorian peep show fashion.
In September the zinnias explode:
fiery oranges and fuchsias that
attract sleepy bumblebees,
who seemed utterly confused by this
abrupt steel monstrosity
with hibiscus, of all things,
blooming on the pillowcases.
About the author:
Malia Jackson is an MFA student at San Francisco State University, where she is the assistant poetry editor for Fourteen Hills, the SFSU review. She has taught mathematics and physics but now teaches claymation instead. She can be reached at .