by K weber
Listening to the whistle
of AM/FM
Sitting down with the blind spot
becoming fireworks
Feeling like a baby was left
behind and there is no baby
Lying in bed and swore
there was a snowsuit at the edge
Hearing each garbled word
across an invisible transmission
Lighting up the neighborhood
with red and blue screams
Seeing pixels were geometry
and an overlay
Perching in the cushion’s indent
could not end the conversation
Knowing the unplugged fan
became something else
The fan was reading a book
about side effects
K Weber is an Ohio writer with 10 online books of poetry. K writes independently and collaboratively, having created poems from words donated by more than 300 people since 2018. K has poems featured in publications such as The Hooghly Review, Writer’s Digest, Fevers of the Mind & her photography/digital collages appear in literary journals including Barren Magazine and Nightingale & Sparrow. Much of K's work and her publishing credits are available as a free PDF or audiobook on her website: kweberandherwords.com