one time, i was all like Ahhhmen,
burned butter brown
while the cat was a black hole on hot pink
smoothed over the bed.
my feet were in some pot shaped pool
under a curved satin roof,
ghosts only wear white cotton,
a little percent polyester by exception.
the day you said you'd run a mini marathon
for someone whose legs were smaller
and younger
the penny under the refrigerator you couldn't let go
because the collection would get cold.
ear ache lover boy, sweatered shoulders
the jar of quarters like singing,
sounding tinge of the please i'm sorry,
twisting the links in the swings.
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