My Cardboard Balcony

Love & Coffee Osmosis by Belinda Roddie diffused the tension bit by bit, swirling creamer in a browning mucus membrane, driven to the corner of a creekside table with reverse motion, molecular primitivity oozing. no. stop. hold that thought. here comes a stranger. she's permeating sweetness, facilitating awkward conversations from awkward people. drooling silent obscenities laced with mocha freedom. lack of freedom. whatever holier-than-thou mantra leaks from an eye into another fatty acid, heaped on a lost bicep. dripping. colored. fuschia launchpad for a cellular phone. delicious. you want to sample it, shock it into your system, gain immunity, absorb, formulate, and fornicate, until every ounce of sweat moves from one side to the next, and the first layer of tissue dies.

"Hang on, I'm not done with my speech!" "But you have to come, Bob! The speech can wait!" "But all the greatest known octogenarians are here! They're practically foaming at the gums for this stuff! I haven't even gotten to the ferret joke! Have I told you the ferret joke yet, Richie? Funny stuff." "Forget the joke and come see Billy before he keels over and dies!" "Let me tell the ferret joke first!"