Same Lines
Linnea Ogden

I didn’t want anything

I thought I didn’t want


They finally looked me up on the Internet

The lost lightsocket of my computer


Dormant on a dressing table

Which is a beat up filing cabinet


The rock on my nightstand the same shape

As an old wax earplug


The novels we read as teachers

Make me want the desert


I am the same age as

A fossilized rock that becomes


A fern