Sometimes
I kick
geriatrics
in the shins
in the dark
of half-price cinema.
Sometimes
I weave
new birds of paradise
into your pristine
chobi
from gum
my feet bring in off
of the street.
Sometimes
I split
infinitives
and dangle
participles and modifiers
from the
hanging mobile of
my prose.
Sometimes
I forget
the salt
the sugar
remembering instead
the exuberance of
turmeric.
Sometimes
I
just
make
mistakes.
