I’m a cheerleader for some cut-rate liquid soap.
I’m a grandmother of some Vietnamese math students.
I’m the pilot of a news helicopter above Pacoima.
I’m a dehydrated marathon runner in a Presbyterian family parade.
I fried up some fish fingers on a Sunday for all the feral cats in the neighborhood.
I took pictures of the car radio stuck in the 80's.
I listened to former CIA agents spill the beans about 3D glasses.
There is divinity in the dinner that is served after midnight.
There is no finishing this argument before the lunch bell
sounds and all the cotton balls break out in song.
Holy mackerel and all that consolation–
I object to the stars making silk purses out of rickety scaffolding.
There has to be a better way to mend a tide pool of its missing moons.
It was a dangerous night for all who wore labyrinths for pajamas.
No comments:
Post a Comment