This day is a banana that is pretty brown. It could be a lot yellower. And firm. But as it is, it is brown and soft and the potassium is undoing itself. Sugar turning on itself and becoming plain glue. But tonight pineapples will parade down the gutter in tricked out shades. I will be there with Lonesome Edward. Drinking snow water from ceramic tumblers. We will celebrate the moments of our lives. Like if couch cushions had faces.
I wonder where I am. The crust has left the pizza and is floating like so much munch.
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