It’s across the street. The roots of an old oak sprout like hair which are holding my purse and my shoes aloft. Somehow, I knew without a doubt without ever really knowing the details that they- They had stolen them from me as I walked FROM my school past the adult entertainment center and finally PAST the broken-down bubblers on Wisconsin Ave and mind your own fucking business boulevard. My phone- my portal into a different planet – starts to leak corn juice and VPN sauce. OH my GOD – The sun is burning down, and so I crack a raw egg over my face.
3 minutes on one side
easy over does it
2 minutes on the other so that the
Whites are set.
The broken yellow yolk dries in my eyebrows – which raise as – A small rabbit with cowboy boots runs across my field of vision. I can hear his whistling the same tune that my mother used to hum to me when I was only 6 pounds old.
I mused to myself mumbling a list of justifications that would permit me the higher legal and moral ground so as to proceed. Whereas the rabbit, nearly mindless in its animal intent continues the travel its journey in a way that placed it in shady overgrown crops on the city street. There are taller taller grasses and there are smaller smaller rabbits. The leaves of the long grasses whip and bring unwelcome caresses and my hands get cut when I try to pull them out from the roots and I strain my albeit- underworked – biceps and place all of my stress on my lower back. I feel a twinge. I curse the ground and the dust for making me tired and making me do all of these things on such a HOT day.
But that okay that’s something that can be fixed with pseudo-science-based rejuvenating facials and masks and creams and gels that will make a person’s problems disappear just like their body’s pores. Whittling themselves so they can fit behind a single sheet of computer paper or a lamppost or something like that. – but the bulletproof monk once said and I’m paraphrasing- a fish cannot survive in water that is completely pure.