dear Xeno,

what if death is a
myth. what if during your last
hours, minutes, seconds

time gradually
slows, until each moment is
an eternity.

did the Tortoise not
teach that the end never comes ?
do we not seek the

infinite between
the infinitesimal ?
I am the star of

this pornography
known as consciousness, and it
is one with no end.

dear lady

hairspray and leopard
print : the key to tricking Old
Age. or so she thinks.

namaste, fat girl.

i gorge on cookies
after yoga to honor
the glutton within.

in this great melt

we must remember
that the banana, newly
excavated by

yesterday's warm
hands, is most certainly still
delicious; for

we are not fools so
easily tricked by a peel
blackened from the cold.

bones

he orders sandwich
with a side of sandwich, but
leaves all of the crusts.

differing opinions

i say 'dive right in'
but he says, 'don't go whole hog
right outta the gate.'

i'll do what i please.

i've been home from the
dentist not two hours and
have thus far enjoyed :

one cup of coffee
one handful of jelly beans
one glass of wine, and

some other no-nos.
my mouth aches and tastes of blood
but i say FUCK THEM !