The following poem was found in another book my friend Vickey gave me. I’m having a hard time interpreting the meaning of this piece, but I still like it. Enjoy!
I was surrounded by a mob of people. I showed my teeth. I
kicked many of them in the ribs. Many of them kicked me back,
in the ribs. One of them had the face of my dead mother and
one of them had the face of my dead father. One of them had
my face. I asked the one with my face where he got that face,
but he only echoed exactly what I asked and then, just like I
did, waited impatiently for an answer. Where did you get that
face? Where did you get that face? Where did you get that face?
Where did you get that face?
This back and forth went on for a very long time, then there
was a long loaded silence until I felt my skeleton arm move my
arm arm up toward his mouth and my skeleton finger move
my finger finger ono his lips while his arm moved toward
my mouth and while his finger touched lips. We were like
-Taken from Scary, No Scary (2009)