I drink margaritas and then play
Twister. Tacos, burritos and
accusations. I’m judgmental.
My defense is semantics.
Why can’t you read my mind?
I’m out the door and I still make
a good time. What about five
years? What about writing?
I do a series of this and that
for the devils. Whose hand-
marks are on your destiny?
There are clues and stubble so
use chewing gum. First you
cringe and then you get sucked
in. It’s all terribly hurried
but you like who you are,
and repeat this to yourself
often. It’s a long sidewalk,
though. If you cringe at the word
stereotype then you won’t get this.
