Free Entry, Week 6

I found a garden in mid-air
and occasional under the table.
We bought supplies at the vending machine
next to the laundry mat, we popped gum
until all the pink was chewed out.
This is what it means to be a child,
to be yellow and new all over
like a coward or a virgin,
like a domino in a box-unused and cold
to the touch. The locusts left yesterday,
and the church bell disappeared
That is why the garden hung
mid-air,all sense was gone.
This is also what it means to be a child,
to lose and to like to lose
because losing means nothing
when you are five.