Apr 302014

Under The Sofa Poem Sam Backhouse Image


Under the sofa is another land
Covered in paperclips and rubber bands
A slimy plaster monster lurks under there
And once in a while I hear it vomiting hair
The dust demons play with the souls
Whilst sitting upon used sellotape rolls
Tissue mountains lie soaking in snot
And piles of tangled laces sit in a huge knot
I turn off my torch as I’ve had enough
Of looking beneath the sofa at all that stuff
I should clean up this mess and make it go away
But I can’t be asked so I’ll do it another day.

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