I talk a lot about our privet
It’s lush and full
tall and wide
hiding me
from whatever is in the alley
walking driving or crawling by
It’s hiding me from the cyclops
He’s tap dancing on the asphalt
while frying eggs on the curb
in this Arizona heat
Ah to be surrounded by love
In permanence
on the laundry room door
Truly, the privet
is hiding me
from the world built on a treehouse
It’s being held up by a thesaurus
because the atlas was too tired
of running out of things to say
The privet is hiding these
yoga posing cats from the world
on chicken legs of the baba yaga
WhatsHerName Writes 