Getting into the passenger’s seat

of the blue-mobile with eyebrows for headlights,

He produces an unsuspecting micro bouquet from his jacket:


I feel the leaves to check.

Feels like they went to Michael’s to buy this one:

the largest rose the size of a small strawberry,

surrounded by mini roses the size of erect nipples

and baby’s breath.


Plastic, scented adornment of a profession

a strange, surprising, entrancing confusion

given the state of his union.

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