these are different meaningless words.
I’m cold. By now our friends are past
Reno and Yellowstone and probably
Las Vegas. “My foot hurts.” Sound
of an airplane makes me dream I’m
dying. Dinner for 9 at Fleur de Lys.
“Do you think you can be monogamous?” Stick
out like sore thumbs. An airplane
plus a siren. A little blizzard of
gnats. A womb in the clouds.
A patch of clover. Walnut
brownies. “I’m cold.”
“My foot hurts.” He
was versatile. The
sound of a fork
scraping a plate.
The fork sound.
We are versatile.
Forking. The
sound of
scraps falling
into a trashbasket.
The sound of trash.
The sound of ash.
Narcotic orange
aren’t hung.
