092522

Papercut

she was born
eating paper the first
editions gone before
we knew she moved
on to wood no chair
was safe the periodic
table was her menu
she browsed ate us
out of house we dropped
her off downtown not
our home our problem till
the skyline changed
plumes of dust shrugging
a sinkhole maybe
we could see her
towering over the city
remains to be seen
if she’ll stop
we sidle past
time to move
really