Day 18

 Day 18

My life as a yoyo

Making a circle of arms and legs is difficult - 

My head into my chest, my arms under folded

Everything kept neat

I am not neat – my bones get in the way,

Ribbing out at angles, a thing shedding its skin

Or a fracture through the carapace of tarpaulin

I’m nothing if not telescopic

But this is what you’d make me,

Plastic, smooth

The vinyl of a creature in a mould,

Melted down and reshaped

Give me neon green

Make me unravel and descend

At the flick of the wrist and then

Crawl up again, control

In descent and ascent

All the rage in games – we’re not playing-

We’re no longer

Yo

I

 Yo

You, Toys