color

Some days the laundromat handles more than usual.

Flagged. Forward to Verification -- see standing Protocol 7-G.

Giant fish sits in therapist's office on armchair.

Four figures gather around a glowing crystal ball.

Cold scales behind glass, waiting on human tides.

Night itself knocks, grinning at the glass.

Between white coat and bristled bulk, patience weighs heavy.

Front incisors show wear consistent with tunnel work.

Strange creatures share a table, the world holds its breath.

Even anthropomorphic animals expect impeccable table service.

The sneakers are tied correctly, double-knotted.

Even the sun showed up with cartoon enthusiasm.

Tickle me Stalin

Morning ritual, shared between flesh and strange stone.

Billboard, statue, crowd, fence, red stains, refinery towers.

The fringe knows something. The fringe always knows.