clueless she looked at me and said: "I want you to do rude things to me". so i let the door go in her face, cut her up in traffic, criticised her food with a slow, slow fork,
with the lights out avocado i love avocado enough, to get married to it. here comes the bride, short, brown and wide, and beneath that shy, goosebump skin, a creamy, green yellow
man with broom for head at first, as i boarded the bus in a confusion of sunlight, i thought it was a large moustache, bristles trimmed neat and tight, like the might of the military.
the sea hog at noon cool blue, revealed in waves asunder. grey beard shingle weeps toward an embrace, the shifting water rolls abroad; the gentlest of marauders.