LimeMercury

I take lemonade, green tea. I take shallow breaths, chest rises softly under the comforter Take a handful of begonia blossoms, take posture seriously Eyes up To meet the coworkers, the countesses (still imaginary at this point) Take, take responsiblity for the evangelizing Face forward Take my eyes off the screen for a second or two, take a chance Take some time to think it over, that I've left you Never mind where it takes me To come from mud with a raison d'etre personality and memory still intertwined, liquid in the cast to let spirit take hold To reclaim, verdant and bright, the countenance of a man falling apart Taken aback

All at once, we’re through the front door. Rain-cold, blood in the kettle. Home now, yew wreath, gum branch potpourri, and apple cider begets an amorous look and a cracked open Royal Dansk tin. Holding the butter cookie between her thumb and forefinger, rolls it down the inside of her forearm like a St. Catherine's wheel, says "It's still early." It sounds like everything else; it's an announcement. Inside my head I'm licking the crumbs off, and inside that head, I'm wondering if she meant something by ”it's still early”. The worlds diverge and she playfully puts her hoodie back on and I’m sure she loves me uncondi

I'm an undead songbird and I'm bleeding my chips at the poker table, camel-free days. I'm high on anxiety and that's pretty much it. I'm an internet celebrity, get me out of here! I hate the light and I can't call you back, I'm busy studying the specific gravity of love. I blink intermittently like other things that blink intermittently and the phrase "imminent danger" is overused, goddamnit. I decay like concrete and probably at about the same rate, but I don't watch it and it doesn't watch me (why would it?) and if walls could talk, they would tell us how hard it is to ignore us. I'm a member of the rumrunning five and I won't miss Polaroi

10-6; satisfactory hours for The Fremont Street Body Chocolatier Established 1990 Before the 2nd Bush Administration The implacable desert sand peppers the plate glass storefront the Adonis mannequin the mocha briefs Decrepit register, AMEX still accepted cooler salvaged from Central Food Behind the counter, Lucy's 39th She doesn't owe us nothin' Frowns over the coiled copper-ginger lock resting on the fondue skin

A miss A standoffish stand-in for standup in the place that I was I think about erections, wonder why I have them Well taught Says freedom rings because freedom, Isabelle and bells ring, naturally. Immediately degenerate. It skips a generation, more precisely On time Strike while the iron's still iron, she met Swami Vivekananda, pastoral, past oral, pass the Dorals, fix Section 8 My east coast con- cubine

Like a Dior, a Klein, the architect of form in the letter, the typographer, half artist, half photocopier, first reads the text, as though the words could be improved upon, then introduces his craft, dissecting the original, character by character in an envious necessity. To call him a murder of the lexicon would overstate his aim, which is only to dress it. Words, who would not clothe themselves, are spoiled by such treatment.

Think like a bad CAPTCHA, wilted produce, ten oh three AM with magic eraser Subjectless, attempting to keep pace with the half-marathon runners Brutus can be found in the space between the screen tap and the LED flash, in the unset smile the Risorius gravity IPA tired versus sorrows worth repeating?

My car has a suspension of disbelief. My love is organic chemistry. I pay attention to dog faces. Dog faces, with those compressed sentiments Dog faces, the backdrop of states States, my lexicon is insufficient to describe Moving on, serving sizes Wilting roses, without my glasses Parking tickets, rhyming couplets What do I want for dinner? Nothing fancy.

When I imagine what I'll tell my children when I'm called on to explain why their toys are so fun I think I will briefly hesitate and apologize because playing a knight, a mayor, a policeman, a soldier, is a lot like life only better.