Be Surreal

Astronauts ho cries out the barista, as the Argonauts file in to order coffees and scones. Banana trees stoop and peek in through open windows, shaking sleeping birds awake. Only yesterday the world was green but now it shines in the morning sun. Wit, winks, wails. The ship lifts its sails to catch the meager wind blowing from pulled out pockets. Change bounces and rattles against the ceiling. Stir, sip, ship, tip. Three streets over the laundry, wet, heavy, is pinned to the line and sent out to the world. Semaphore. Cuneiform. A bell whistles in response, hashtag what, who.


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