peace, justice and artichokes.
With this in mind
, off to The Olive
Garden for lunch with
twenty-six posts upthread
and my elderly neighbor,
Gerald.
A sudden, violent
windstorm stripped the underwear
off of The Statue
of Naughty Lingerie, leaving
enormous sensible, reinforced panties
and a purple sombrero
covered with vulgar drawings
of weasels engaged in
muskrat love and horse
play, and Pop Goes
Vin Diesel, the librarian
and Guardian of the
only thing that matters:
Olivia Newton-John’s cocaine supply.