but there was a time
when we loved it

so much
we named a magazine

Life

with the title in white block letters
against a small red square

and glossy pages
in between

It was the gray
and blue wrapper
so ugly

that made it
the Zero

the candy bar

nobody ever wanted
and because of that
nobody ever knew

how it tasted

but yet I miss it
just like the ability
to pull a lever

and hear
the crinkling sound
of candy coming down

the shoot

colors
a spectrum of colors

reds
yellows

violets
and greens

succeeding
lightening rain

and gray clouds
beauty

along with the calm
after the storm

Blue sky
crisscrossed

with
chemtrails

the first butterfly
of the season

and a lawnmower
gasping

for that last
bit of gas

point

you ask

point is something
usually lead

and almost always
on the end of a pencil

Yes

I found your journal
deep

in the attic
the black one

with a gold lock
I pried open

but
what I wonder

is

do I dare
try and decipher

your hen scratches

I guess the bigger question
do I dare

disturb the universe

Gleaming
white it shines in the cold sun

of this early Spring day
with the corrugated door

rolled up
the uniformed driver

dollying packages
down the silver ramp

a Fed Ex truck
parked outside my window

I'm staring

at a blue bottle
with bubbles

in the wavy glass
that is as thick as

thick

the world ends
when we have no more

metaphors
and similes

to describe it