It…

by grimbeau

Loner chocolate chip cookie on wood-grain surface.

Then

breaks clear, steady indigo day,

one star awake in the west, cautious

action on the horizon;

nerve

ends flapping on the wind, nerve ends

like underwater shrubbery,

waving and posturing,

sometimes

leeward bowing; sometimes starboard:

a massed rank of constant certainty.

I claim the right to dream in words.

Yesterday

afternoon I ate two

chocolate chip cookies,

the straws that broke the camel’s belly,

and now everything is blubber

& stool.