we live in spare tire country much too much to eat with much too little movement creates a lovely ring of fat not that this Fat tire could ever replace any kind of flat on another part of us it’s simply the latest thing everyone carries around perhaps a new kind of fashion statement we’re all hoping will someday come into vogue

I have a thing about those who speak and never expose a single smiling tooth I wonder what happened to their inner child, maybe kidnapped, imprisoned, in solitary confinement and for what, acting foolish laughing too loudly daring to have fun? well, I think hard eyes and a jutting jaw look stupid on folks pretending to be adults when they’re no more than large, better-dressed children and hiding the one thing that will bring them joy . . . their own innocent smile

from my kitchen window there are gaps in the mango tree, perfect for spying as I notice eyes scout out the house sizing up who must live there a giant mesquite tree hovers above them box of umbrellaed poems sits on a rock Tranquillo whispers from a wall in summer, mystery fruit hangs heavy from green-fingered leaves palm trees clutter the view of sky shade is deep and plentiful I would stare at my house too if I passed it, fascinated by the creature who lives there unaw