Acid reflux flashbax
of pouring spoons into empty cash registers,
knock once for a good time,
twice to watch the tide rush away from the door,
welcome mats never clean enough dirt from the sole
so knock three times for the tidal wave
we all hope is waiting,
catch the tiger's toe cold
and prey on the humans who trip like robots
becuase their clocks decided they weren't made for these times
and assassinated the microwaves
before turning themselves in.
Staring at the shaky blue cup
stuck inside the sun
offers only a lesson in blindness,
a lesson in absolutes,
absolutely,
why sing
when no one will dance,
why dance
when the earth already moves for us,
folding clean asphalt and dirty laundry
over rival neighborhoods
and earthworms who forgot to take their helmets off,
why celebrate the death of kings
when we yearn for the loves of queens,
so knock three times
or go through the garage,
either way
those clouds look like rain.
