Monday, April 18, 2011

The Higher Tea

The gymnast twists
her ergonomic pen.
The redwood
cupboard sends
a message: recycled
rail sleepers. Paper knots
a dry image
in the pillows’
undergrowth. Picture books
stacked in a Ducati
slide, caterwaul
their Sunday habits: a heavy
thermos of white hot choc-
olate, raisin
toast and marshmallow
flints. A credo like substance
abuse, innate
as fingernails.

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