At the airport there was an abandoned paper bag with images of stone figurines on it the color of cookies, but not cookies, if you tried to bite those you’d break your teeth; your teeth aren’t up to that, like if the game were “rock, scissors, teeth” your teeth would not win that game
which reminds me of the editor who hated my semi;colons
also the woman on the train this morning in black pants, dress shoes and neon green socks, hello
it’s awkward having to talk to hair cutters and taxi drivers and people with whom you must spend an allotted amount of time alone, also doctors, which is why I suck at therapy but I do make an exception for my dentist because he is a smiler and upbeat and even if it’s fake it’s a relief
my mother brought me a stack of New Yorkers and I notice a weird thing they’re doing with their print layout here’s a picture
In my earliest memory I am inserted onto a saddle atop a brown horse like a piece of text
2 comments:
You should get up early more often. Nice tribute to Peter Schickele in the sidebar.
I misread, "like a piece of toast". Smile.
johanna
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