My arms are sticks
with sharp stumps on the ends
wedged into a blocky body
I wield with unconcern.
Atop my rounded face,
a straight slit
like the top of a T,
for the mouth
and dots for the eyes.
The forward-backward Ls for legs
support the torso, strong but sappy,
and all despite the white expanse
I stand before.
This crafting of the wanted world,
to make the markers shape the space
and watery colors fill the build,
is just the way you like.
Your awkward images
squirming through a flattened life
have made the lanky lovely.
The simple wriggled lines
stretch on the leveled shell
you put me on
with blissful glee.
I’m thankful for the way you made
your humble uncle live.
If I could cause it all to fall
within a snowy page
that’s made for just this thing,
I’d make the juvenile the norm.
To live inside the sweetest mind,
free from all
corrupted, burning thoughts
exists somewhere I cannot even touch.
I’ve wandered far from scribbled truths.
The twisted, turning path I traveled down
has stranded me away
from illustrated men
and you who make them live.
David Reuter has been published in The Cape Rock, Existere Journal, Sanskrit Literary-Arts Magazine, Visitant, Vox Poetica, Visitant and Neogolism Poetry Journal. He attended the William Paterson University’s Writer’s Conference in 2018 and 2019 and the Rutgers Writers’ Conferences in 2017, 2018 and 2019. He has a bachelor’s degree from Caldwell College and works as a paralegal. In his free time, he enjoys practicing martial arts, playing guitar, and cooking.