phobias

Black and white images stream across yesterday…at today’s falls.

Profiles of cremated plots of Jiffy Pop.

And, with a splash, ‘not now’.

All in an instant, all in the wordy watered down words.

Thus, I ponder, why are these memories your’s to take?

Like a broken toilet handle…refusing to flush.

There is nothing like the taste of being…sour.

On this, the half past hour.

∞

An, ‘I see you…’ on random country stores.

Black and white transformed into the derelict poor.

∞

Prolific Falls…where do we go.

Prolific Falls, meant to be searched when solo.

∞

When I had been young,

I learned to swim with a push.

When I had been young,

I learned to drive in a jam.

∞

Sink and swim and hold on tight.

Tart and tangy memories in black and white.