toppling onto gingerbread island, and the Quakers have a hero in oatmeal. And we can all warn each other of menacing egotists painting their image onto every soup can. Those green foam Hulk hands trying to drink pasta water for recreation, not nourishment. “HULK SMASH!” we all say in unison. Static on the television sets, static on the radio, Freud over there asking everyone why it’s so phallic… There is a wedding ring made of tin foil, a caveman found it in a clay pot Anne Hathaway’s sister made, the hedge fund managers approved. “Costco hotdogs will always be $1.66!” the CEO says, the diamond dispenser jammed in his upper guest-loft. I’d like to congratulate the lookers for inventing eyelids and the cent-patrol for convincing us to drop our pennies. A rabid squirrel playing backgammon with the neighborhood chocolate dealer. Everyone kisses the sky and cartoon hearts appear above us, bubble sound effects as they pop. Is that grandma’s perfume I smell? There were flower pedals in my Cheerios. Tried to return the box but I was told to donate it to the cardboard castle estate across the street. We’re all fleeing something but sometimes, some things are worth staying for, or better yet planting our feet into wet cement for. The cement truck driver smiling as he drives away, knowing all wheels aren’t meant for spinning. A dragon fruit tries to convince the others of his mythical origins while kiwi knows she both looks and sounds cute! The cups are in the cupboard, the bowls in the bowling alley, the scent of all sentences. Today, the birds are happy. I wish I could name them all. And the sun, so proud of all the stories written about him. There is a stillness to this place, as we ride on the backs of palmetto bugs, wings like tiny sails.
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