Every time I work it out,
I feel compelled to
cargo-load
—those box cars get me every time–
mistaking suitcases
for refrigerators
and pinching
inches of fitness
that re-tire waste
…
mostly stifling the urge for
go scream shakes, though
—with a lip band that breaks with inspiration–
because: shakes.
They give me the opposite
of brain-freeze, and that’s
a shame, really,
–and exercise for another day–
since “the” matter
is a dish
best scooped—
cold.
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