green sunburst on the yellow living room.
rancid odor from the kitchen.
a lost equation,
we are in these cities like ruby red slippers
or spiky wooden shoes.
fly like the dutchman
a continual process of forgetting
take that in yr acedamia and shove it.
sometime, somewhere in the ripe netherworld of conversations
we are still struggling,
attempting to explode the image.