The sun loves its yellow, so daffodils are first.
I, too, am tired of turkeys, but plastic is uninteresting.
The city hems the skirts of trees short
so the homeless can’t sleep between their limbs.
You put the “u” in euonymus.
The square root of corn is minnows.
Animals make lists we do not recognize.
Borders ruin everything.
Magma puts vengeance into perspective.
Rakes make earthworms smile
though no one has ever witnessed this.
Atmospheric pressure means nothing to an idea.
Peaches are twins of newborns’ heads.
Red Arrow Highway floats across flooded ditches
like an old reel to reel tape.
Eyelids give us the illusion of privacy.
Street signs fasten landscape to the crust.
Death is a blue star on the map
between Idaho and your next idea.
There’s a ticket in your pocket.