What Is Love?

Is it a grey carpet
with red strands ground into it
and you don’t know where the red strands came from
and the vacuum doesn’t pick them up
and you end up removing them by hand
for forty-five minutes?

Is it two pumpkins
on the verge of going bad
three and a half weeks
before Hallowe’en
because for some reason
grocery stores have been selling pumpkins
since early September?

Is it a piano
that someone just rolled
over someone else’s foot
prompting screams of agony
and a visit to the emergency room?

Is it the wrong end of a fork
used to thwack you across the knuckles
for trying to sneak
the last piece of pie
on a night when
everyone needs pie
because the whole day has been terrible?


It is a pony

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