the current of the small creek
pushes the little fish downstream
but the little fish doesn’t mind
the little fish just floats
and enjoys the tumultuous ride

boxes inside of boxes
the cat licks my arm
but he doesn’t like the taste

leftovers
they remind me
of fun meals

the sleep is long
the rest is effective

light filters in sideways
into the brown tea room
the girl with bright blue eyes
stares out the window
her face is calm
soft piano music drifts around
there’s odd hope and whimsy

hey Siri
I’m cheery
I’ve got a theory
why’d they do that?
something to look at
fat cat
screen flat
let’s chat
I’m at
top hat
I’m so bleary
not the least bit leery
hey dearie
I’m tired and teary

around and around
it goes
moving hot air around
you know
the temperature does not go down
not cold

Jenny’s blood stream
chocolate chips
mochi
spot 242
orange lantern fireflies

the chameleon girl did not notice
the gentle fluttering, a frantic but effective movement,
of the dusty brown moth eyeing her soup
she did not notice its eventual fall
she did not notice as the soup coated its wings
the powdered surface lost its micro scales
to the thick and unforgiving soup
she scooped up another spoonful
she did notice the half dead moth now
but she couldn’t save it, and that’s it.

weekdays feel like weekends
it’s odd and awesome