These natty tightshave been sporting holesfor many weeks of wear,but finally todaythey’ve reached their limitalong with the lettersigned Love Always& the glossy photobooth shot,one on the lap of the other,lust-blind, vacation-tanned.It’s too cold for reflectingon beaches, lust or letters,so pad to the kitchenin homeworn slippers,& toss that shit in the trash.
Susan prompted the Real Toads to write on a theme of hello or goodbye. Hello, this is poem number 24 of 30 for National Poetry Month! And today's the third birthday of the runaway sentence, hip hip hooray!