I have been known to nod off during work disputes or cracked water lines. I once saw nine stiches close a head wound that may have fulfilled the final sentence in the book of Revelations, “the first plague will commence with a stubborn freezer door and the edgy idealism of a falling ice tray.” And they say that all pets will go to Heaven, perhaps the humans will live eternity *protected* by collars and leashes. Sometimes, I groom so much that recent meals become warmer than the duped permission of any jacket, fabled constancy and an overwhelming smell- massaging many tired rooms and scolding the off-limit territories, but most importantly, a competing bristling feather under the nose, an allergy that reminds me to guard my pelt and eat again. Let us be proud of the clumps of posturing fur that smooth out jagged, knee scuffing corners and level off dust and bits of clay-sure the litterbox could be neater, but America’s past time is my appearance and less likely to stain or cost you money over missed signs and broken up double plays. The coin purse is a hard pass, the onus is on the purchaser to defend printed flowers and scratched gold, even the tiny latch fastens within the authority of a dropped pillow instead of the flooded arrival of the headliner, in this case a definitive, auditory-lit snap. I just knew that I would spend less time tying on the shiny hook than the cold, dark sinker-confected by a perfectly round pour, baked in by a cold war aftertaste that is far more bitter when fired by powder charged tongue. Such a sad world, the carefully crafted shine that ensnares the catch, deserving of glory and praise, but far too sharp for a smooch to avoid a permanent stutter. The neighbor does not ask for my opinion, she is small, timid and vapid, in other words, she is all the same, we are here to steal your glances, high pitched baby calls do little to peak our interests or break away from mustard evoking portals-every adventure is a consumption for entitlement levelled off from plummeting trade. Accountability is contempt in which every keystroke is the difference between a cheered tyrant and a catalyst for rationalized disease. Throw the stones and draw the gawkers in with your glass-pierced eyelids-if you have looked closely over the years, you will note that the starting value, is barely higher than a multiple of one-but my art needs only one attempt to keep pace with the steam from a southern storm and a melting, moonlit street. A lisp darting through shrapnel, now that is a *bluew badth of courath* and the critic’s quandary of freewill.