Collected Poems of Carl Sandburg

the jacket is on the
floor of my bedroom and the
book is in my bag
but I just carry it around and forget it's there

and rarely read it

love is like a
receipt in 
your back pocket

you forget about it
put your pants in the wash 
and later find pieces of crumpled, faded 
paper in the 
lint trap of your dryer.

limbo

hallways are
portals that lead to
two trapdoors.