Those educators made me the opposite of Lois Lane; I call upon the author to explain

Equal measure. A spoon for spoon wandering around existence with sore hands and feet and curiosities about crucifixions. Was it a drowning? Something about arms and legs and inabilities of blood, I don't know, I don't know. You could fill this bucket with it. Newtown opens its stitches; watch me walk right in between bulging sutures and the woman with a skirt but no pants. You can even have a coffee if you desire.

That curious island of a cafe with its easy listening can't smooth your edges Newtown. You are ragged under new pink lips Newtown. The pirate man hesitated tonight before leaning in close with his sounds and I wonder what you did to him to make him pause and consider before bobbing his top hatted head. The people with shoes walked. The people with shoes, and that includes me, walked all over you sometimes noticing a hum now belongs to another and the pies have lost their joke.

Newtown I'm wondering about your party dress and the laundries and what people do with their boxes of powder. I'm remembering yesterday buying decaf coffee in my gym clothes then drinking chocolate milk in the rain. Vanilla fridge wipe with the aftertaste of socks. All this preceded by the lifting of weights unseasonably chewing lactose enabling mint tablets and now I'm telling you I'm the opposite of Lois Lane. I call upon the author to explain.

Comments

Anonymous said…
You changed the dare, does this mean someone got the glass out for you?