(She likes sticking people
with her needle.)
If you and I are blobs
where is you or I? Our border
the surface where we touch
(a funny-looking wave)? I would
stick you but I am a blob.
I had Certs for breakfast
at Grey Whale Cove,
overcast and warm.
My blob on the sand
just beautiful
like the last couple of days.
Smog check today no avail.
Take ticket, find pines
like Alice Notley
(green and rust) for sticking
the truth. Rest in peace a
squirrel. Rest in peace
another wave. Misspell
squirrel like sheriff.
You are the one. Just wait
two and a half years
and you will know it.
Dream as if I am not a blob:
we smooch for thirty minutes
then have enormous sex
followed by (ack!) talking words.
Go to sleep on peach
(mistype – in peace!)
after flushing toilet.
