I could use some 2-D fun.
I was working the day shift. It was a lovely day in the neighborhood.
Then I saw it coming at me.
Somewhere out there, between the blue and the green, is a republic.
What no one has yet seen.
The sand seemed to rear up and grow gills as I walked by.
Just another day in my life. Don't like it? Then bite me.
Before the enn and after the ellgh, there's what?
A mangificent protruding minence, eh?
Which is nice.
If you're the right shade of blue.
Something's there waiting. Maybe it's on a hook.
Care for a nibble? (You first.)
Hang me a tentacle.
Any one will do. We have lots.
What's down there? Does it have hair?
Is it here, or over there?
What's wet and blue? Is it me? Is it you?
Nope. Something else.
Be here, be ware, be ready, be prepare.
Pray or die, sucka! (Please knock before entering.)
Whatever it is, it's fine. I don't care.
As long as it's properly groomed.
Deep in the sea it floats, writhing its tentacles tentatively.
Waiting to grab your thoughts, or your tuna sandwich — whatever.
Leave it here.
But take the key with you.
Was a gull. Not a buoy, but a gull. Sort of.
It looked suspicious, like it had been too-recently poorly-painted.
What was it hiding?
Said the mermaid to the walrus, "I don't know why, but...
"...some days I just feel sand."
One evening, walking, near sunset.
I saw this waiting.
I don't ken. I don't know.
No one cares if I come or go.
Curving, jutting, ranging, butting.
Wide and narrow — that's me, the arrow.
X me. Ray me. Stick me on a wall.
Give me a buffing polish. I won't complain at all.
The allure of the happy lady has me enchanted.
Because I'm easily seduced by advertising murals.
Make me think again.
About the delicacy of blossoms.
From the balconies.
Fronting the glowing walls.
I think I'm stuck on you.
In every lockable way.
Staggering toward disaster.
In his colorful way.
Chillin', hangin'. Makes me a wallcat.
S'where. S'where? S'where s'at.
You mean this? Hell, I don't know.
Try uncrossing your eyes. Or crossing them.
Time to kill? Walk this way.
Look around. Now what you say?
Nothing to do. Stand, wait. Check your cell phone.
Readjust your shotgun. Wait to go home.
One way to keep your feet warm.
While scouting garbage to peck.
Sometimes. A window is just a window.
But not this time.
Makes you wonder. Does it go somewhere?
Or are you already there?
Move, she said, flipping her broom at my feet.
Yes, said I, and complied. She is so sweet, and tidy, and neat.
Failure results when stuffing proves inadequate.
Which is why we call them dummies.
Someone noticed! Me! Ow!
I can even scare paint!
I get these all the time from Tim and Ed.
Whenever I walk around with a peacock on my head.
Stand with your back to traffic. Bleed your lizard.
Achieve standard satisfaction.
Is off today.
Shut up. Go away.
I'm happy. I'm slappy. I'm probably a dick.
How about you? Ever look like this?
Between rains, between sip and drip, the water fails.
Leaving but a few blossoms as a token of regret.
Third floor. Balcony. Lean over. Read sign.
Then ask yourself: WTF?
When asked where you should park for maximum safety.
Just say Good enough for me, then.
All seeing, all knowing.
Out there, still glowing.
Reminds me of Nevada.
Where the letters go backward.
We stopped for a moment, lost in each other's grace, leaning against that wall, shining with joy.
And then went down the street for beer and cookies.
I've got the ink.
You've got the knowhow, I think.
Good thing I've achieved invisibility. Now they can't see what to chase.
Next up, I work on my smell.
Looks this way, looks that.
Then it winks, then it blinks, then it goes dark.
I don't know about you.
But I don't much like poo.
Stuck to the wall.
I wish I looked so good that way.