treehouse

I'll go to school
and circle random answers,
study the 10 o'clock human clutter
and reverie about the decaying slipper i left at home
that it'd like to talk about in detail
(but what would Freud say)
not even dear friends are attentive of such trivial matters that engage my interest so;
When i return,i think,
i'll write a poem
and drag a line over every verse
crayon tornadoes overs some words , anime face over others
and have such a vision of my slipper
as the slipper hardly understands.

yes, the pun is intended.