I Am Both Worse and Better Than You Thought

I put the soul in squalor. I put the lord in dollar. If I have nothing nice to say, I say it louder. In all caps on your blog. My dog’s name is Paul, short for APOLOGIZE. I reject Celestial Seasonings and make my own tea with Stevia and a bay leaf. A speakable sadness is an unmovable feast. The feta doesn’t travel well. My nausea is moon colored. Stay up late indexing the little things. The equivalent of “it’s all Greek to me” in Greek. In German, they say, “I can only understand ‘train station,’” and then probably, “Ich weiss nicht.” Takes one to know one. Takes gum to blow one. A bubble. A moon. Floating over the pond like nausea, the feta swells in the heat. The back of the Windstar smells like childhood. I ought to praise you like I should.