"Grandma stop eating elderberries or you'll get too old!", cried the child. With a wink and a grin grandma purred, "now now child I will regain my youth with pork brine, youngerberries, and wine."

Along the spread of the table was real lunch as comforting as a cradle:
White hills of processed vanilla cream with the sparkle stream
A viscous yellow sea of elbows and perhaps other limbs
Overlapping ketchup crusaders reigning supreme over the dinosaur chicken nuggets

What lies beyond the table is the watchful and wise grandmother
"Grandma! Grandma! Gimme the big SPOOOON"
With the big spoon in hand the child combined the canvas and proceeded to shovel everything down until swelling like a balloon
-They grow up so fast-

Sipping twisted teas underneath twisted trees.
Sap dripping off maples turning into crystal, cicadas vibrating something blissful
I could feel myself walking on violin strings.
Plink plink plink
Words flowing out as soon as I catch a think
A new golden horizon
Changing your world at the brink of a double blink
Birds singing on a Carnegie, that's where I wanna be.

The final frontier is the produce aisle
Deli slicers becoming sharper the longer the wait
A silhouette of man walks in...
He keeps his cigarette case beside a miniature purple *****
His hat real low, a tacky star fruit badge, and a belt of attendance awards
Always first in line
Buzzer calling for ticket number nine
His hand slowly draws for his concealed nine
Hand to hand and eye to eye
"The regular, gimme my cut, gimme the rolls, gimme the cheese"
Plastic bag with the goods
A slick crawl out of the store
Pulls out his bag to inspect the rolls
"**** this is honey turkey!"

Claws pawing at a doorway, a soft yearning, a puppy. Adoration adorns a house made for two. Raised like a loaf, warm in the oven and softer than snow. In a house of love you will grow.

North Atlantic crooners and gently weeping guitars caress my ears like an airplane gaining elevation. Softer now. Slower now. All the librarians love us. All the librarians invite us. Yodelers with laryngitis.  So quiet. So relaxed. Glasses that dip. Oceans caught in the drift of a paper clip. Tongue me on the tip. Swirls and curls. On the ocean floor; I can only see your face.