Clean-up on Aisle Semantics

Its so far removed from the truth he said. This year has withered before our eyes.

Doesnt the rice pilaf smell like baking bread she said.

No. I think youre smelling the yeast from your crotch he said.

She snapped an open-handed chop to his side.

He fell sending a pot of rice pilaf fanning out in steam on the slate tiles.

Aw kidney sucker punch he said.

Welcome to my world move over and move out cuz you piss me off she said.

Clean up on aisle semantics he said.

I feel myself breaking through the husk that contains me she said.

Run spirit run. Hit the north hit the snooze button slap yourself slap yer mammy he said.

Stop this record stop your baseless simpleton self she said. Stop stop stop.

I wont respond in kind Ill respond in Greek tragedy he said

Respond by crunching the piles of fulvous leaves on your way out she said.

The bulbous affairs of men he said like monticules of litter and scrap iron are the only landscapes left to us.

The fall will come after the fall the fall will precede the fall the fall is there for you to take this fall may be your last she said.

“The people eat sick fish
because there are no others.
Then they get born wrong.”

— Margaret Atwood / “Frogless”