To the place
Where mornings are grungy
Our expressions are blurred
Shadows fix our nails square
We propel towards olive walls
As the grinder whirs self-satisfied.
We are astronauts falling after silly things:
like boys and macadamia nuts
(carnations are too cheap for us)
Soap operas and buttered popcorn,
Kimonos are the current craze.
We live in gazebos,
as we paint our toenails 'red desire'
(we forgot to plant the roses,
But it isn't the season, anyway.)
We drink bars of creamy whipped light
So it milks our eyes.
Yawning is an expertise.
Please don't laugh,
Because we can pinch.
Again the craze.