Broom People

'36 hudson in the garage,all sorts of junk in the unattached spare room,dishes in the kitchen sink,new straw for the old broom,friends who dont have a clue,well meaning teachers,but down in your arms,in your arms,

I am a wild creature.floor two foot high with newspapers,white carpet thick with pet hair,half eaten gallons of ice cream in the freezer,fresh fuel for the sodium flares,

I write down good reasons to freeze to deathin my spiral ring notebook,but in the long tresses of your hair

I am a babbling brook.