I should start out by saying
that the trees look like a system of veins
and that it’s winter, obviously.
I notice this because the eastern wall
of my tiny apartment is a giant window
that lets the sun into my room every morning
to rip the blanket from me and get me to school on time.
Tonight I look out of my window as a skeptic
because the author of my geology textbook
thinks that volcanoes are made out of red paper.
And if the experts can believe such ridiculous things,
what right do I have to believe in anything?
The trees are not made of paper, fools!
they are made of wood,
and paper is made of them.
No matter how I twist that little stick that's supposed to adjust the angle of my blinds, the light leaks into my room so much that it seems as though the sun is actually in the room
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