—NO LYING, BUT SOMETIMES THE TRUTH DON’T SOUND LIKE THE TRUTH, MAYBE CAUSE IT AIN’T

 

Mustard Seed Days

 

I saw Stevie Nicks 

running down my driveway, 

tail wagging like a metronome. 

The bedpost was farther ahead, 

on fire, the wood wailing 

like a witch in heat. 

I’m not making this up.

In the bathtub swam 

a raft of otters. 

A coalition of Cheetahs

tore down the hall, 

faster than the wind. 

You called me delusional, 

but I subbed that out for romantic, 

shampooed your hair in the sink 

while staring through the window as 

a bloat of hippos slow-danced in the rain.