These Days of… Small sterling silver drops of tears When Crying Underground I recommend a day so hot, that searing heat outside Evaporates the way you feel. Forcing you among the green plastic bottles of Pellegrino And the cardboard boxes of budweiser. Black tea, half sweet, half dry like coffee-coated paper When Getting lunch On Fridays in September I can feel my stomach evaporating even now Giddily terrified I spend minutes pursuing To chase what feels impossibly never inevitable Soda cans pop before they hiss, chemical elements evaporating into equalibrum Indubitably incorrect But Distraction is tempting Ever so available, unregulated, lacking the checks and balances of the Softer studies Lucy G.
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