Open up her Mercedes, and put your trash inside. Smile and walk away.
Tattoo a man who owns no mirrors. It’s a picture of a trashcan.
Dream. The homeless man is in your trash. Now it’s reality.
Hurry up to slow down. Wheels above ground control little more than planes.
Thoughts of seawater whipping the cliffs edge leaves distressed housewives at bay.
Poems find themselves easily written if locked inside an elevator.
Open sores hurt when salt rains down from the sky. Too bad your wound’s from lightning.
She thought that lies opened doors. But the janitor heard and locked her out.
Be a man in a woman’s world. Honor feminine—not in this world.
I locked the old man in the closet, so he couldn’t see the rainfall.
Run twenty cattle from now till night to hear just one of Earth’s rumbles.
Wrestle with your patio chairs, break one, bow to one, let one go.
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