The Room of My Life

Each day I feed the world out there

although birds explode right and left.

I feed the world in here too, 

offering the desk puppy biscuits.

However, nothing is just what it seems to be.

My objects dream and wear new costumes,

compelled to, it seems, by all the words in my hands

and the sea that bangs in my throat. 

Anne Sexton

Unknown artist