I had a typo. Sorry if I offended you.

The Tasted Button

Red gash on your neck. Start over.
Red shoes against the rubbish bin you
flower out of, your roots are
ancient flowers, stems were grasses, seersucker patches

close where the garage door was hanging from a blind cave
and bats were as bat-shaped buttons, black
and white. Forgoing the inventory

thief of omission sunlight cold sheets and
the horse on your shirt, pink.
What force was working on that button?

It's March!

I might have told some people there was no rain in the forecast for 10 days. Now, two days later, it's raining. Sorry. When I grow up, I'm going to plant jasmine. I'm going to make the walkway up to my house into a keyhole surrounded by vines. I'm going to stand back and look at it from the street and then forget it's there. I'll be smelling jasmine, trying not to be stabbed by enormous cacti and succulents.

Hi Friends!