As the stylist combs
my hair, her metal bracelets
jangle in my ear.
As the stylist combs
my hair, her metal bracelets
jangle in my ear.
On the patio
we quickly discover our
jackets are too thin.
Grocery store filled with
grumps who put off their shopping
’til this, the last hour.
I just threw up
Devil horns at the sight of
a blood red moon.
Produce stand guy shouts,
“There’s a vegan in the house!”
when I walk through his door.
Closing my eyes and
swaying with the music makes
me that girl, but so what?
Full moon lighting the
hot tub’s water. We’re talking
about the oil spill.
Spring windstorm ripped the
paper off the billboard. A
Christmas ad shows through.
After a great haircut
I keep using shop windows
as mirrors. How vain!
Smell of small, white flowers
on a bush outside the door
prepares me for Office Max.
Hard to say which I
needed more: the trim or the
cheap talk therapy.
A priest smoking a
cigarette?! Oh, he’s still in
costume from last night.
Being single’s tough.
No one to hold your snow cone while
you use the restroom.
Had to open my
mouth so wide for the first bite
I needed lip balm.
We move from stinky,
fishy ocean smell to fresh
flowers in seconds.
Will you please call me
from the store and list off all
the soap scent options?
We get the same hair
cut on the same day. Not long
’til matching tracksuits.
Teaching teens all week
necessitates a Friday
that involves tequila.
The collie sticking
her head out the car window
smiles bigger than me.