Reading the Noodles on the Wall
(without the assistance of eyeglasses)
As a matter of fact, I do not use
stone hewn calligraphy sticks. I
mean, are they even a thing? I
squint even more and discern:
today and butt loom or loon and
so I think butt moon, which even
I have to admit is a bit romantic.
But then—clear as mud and as loud
as a thud—toothpaste? So I’m look
ing around for the stick of deodorant
that I’ve momentarily forgotten I threw
away yesterday (it was an accident; i.e.,
this tale falls apart here), and all I can
find are a loaf of bread and a bag of rotini.
