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