Hot Wheels in the breadbasket.
Clearer now, having closed the windows,
reading the same book from seven ages ago. I put on the headphones
and go to town.
Pepper, sage, and fennel. The Fennelonians. I’ve been
reading too much. This leaves me sad while eating tofu.
Avidly, too.
Her only stance is abortion. I’m okay with a dunderhead
for president. The radiation begins soon.
His lips shake when he lifts his bowl. That’s what happens.
“Funky roast nasty rat.” A cute guy in a wheelchair told me I asked for it.
The plum trees are in bloom all along Lyon Street. Heard from behind me,
“I didn’t realize it was two words. Cast. Away.” Very serious-like.
Fennelicious.
My lungs hurt. I will look into potential gateways.
Ginger has a new computer so she tells me how the
farm has got to go. I’m working on the fourth dimension. Getting there. Slowly.
