• Sarah Van Arsdale

April 19, 2022

Prompt: Start a poem with a command



Look out, little stranger, little ick.

There’s nothing for you here, just a

ragged edge, a paper cut

to slice the tender finger skin.

There’s disarray, a butterdish

upsided by the Smirnoff sitting

on the kitchen countertop.

Look out, look away,

go on. Get out

while you have a chance.

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