the death of an answer
bided time with my toothpick
she was right,
life moves much too quick
for the slow of wit
and i think i saw a fly move
behind her head, drawing breaths
under armpit-wingpit... what must be
overwhelmingly identified
in time, i suppose
she saw me
staring over her head
and muttered something like, "ridiculous"
or "ostensive"-ly something good,
but not so, much more
as it landed in her soup
words of warning escaped my usual soul
and once again, we were proven alone
but the poison-lipped, and the poison sipped,
gave us a right good skip.
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