I can’t take care of your digestive needs.
Maybe that’s not my purpose for your life.
Cuz anyway I come from the fountain of
mouthing off. It’s a new lunar year and it’s a
leap year and I dunno. I messed up and ordered
the Joplin empanada or pupusa, but it was actually
very delicious. I am a cloud that is reaching out &
grabbing as much as I can. But you think it’s some
sort of road in the dessert (that cars can easily veer
off of; or maybe not a car but two motorcyclists....)
“Is there a problem?” I ask him. His response is
“Can you believe it’s not butter?” This tongue
(as in language?) is the entire story of my life.
