My Cardboard Balcony

Meat And Milk by Belinda Roddie For his latest diet, all Jim eats now is coconuts.

My Denim Girl by Belinda Roddie She wears jeans for every occasion: for dances and weddings and birthday parties. I try to convince her otherwise, but she's in love with the Denim God, so I guess I gotta appease the deity somehow! When I proposed, she had denim capris on. When we married, she wanted to wear a ribbed vest of muted ocean blue. Now I watch specials on Netflix with her, and her comfy pants aren't softer than warped cotton, lemme tell you that right now. But God help me, I love her for it: for when I take her out for drinks, her Canadian tuxedo is the best. And as we feed the jukebox with copper and nickel candy, she spins me around in a bar that embraces her aesthetic. So I'll cave, what the hell: She deserves it, and I myself am partial to corduroy myself.

Into The Cold Void Of Space! by Belinda Roddie Built a rocket ship in the snow. Nope - wasn't drunk.

Sparkles by Belinda Roddie How on God's green Earth did I fall in love with a beautiful girl nicknamed, "Sparkles?" Her eyes don't glitter, and her smile doesn't shine, and her lips only gleam when she's glossed them. She loves ice cream with sprinkles and wears shoes covered in sequins. She edits videos and uses the goddamn lens flare effect all the time. She dances to bubblegum pop and sings along to karaoke. She makes cocktails that look like neon drained from closed storefront signs. And she'll always nuzzle and cuddle when I have downtime. The stars "don't compare to us in the slightest," Sparkles giggles to me. And yet, bless my poor heart, how I adore her so, for she makes my pathetic pump of a heart work harder, and we light up like sparklers when we kiss.

Bark It Up by Belinda Roddie Because of a pocket knife, the tree could finally smile.

Island Spirits by Belinda Roddie A ghost relaxed on a hammock, drinking a Mai Tai.

Maybe Don't by Belinda Roddie Light a big enough fire, and you're called an arsonist!