the sun is hitting the yellow blinds and warming the room.
color temperature, not degrees yet.
someone is laughing in the garden.
we did the first line after swearing not to, but that
was a promise made when we were grumpy, doesn't count.
did the second one because there were two hours left.
did the third because there was one.

when the sun shines it reminds you
this part of the city is full of flowers
but most days they blend into the fray and
no buildings are painted white.
white things don't stay that way.
I even saw a white dog yesterday,
but covered in blue paint.

in two months someone rich will come
recognize either of our potentials
take us away to a seaside estate in
Rio, with no fog, only sun, and
a swimming pool built to mix
seamless with the Pacific Ocean.

they'll pay us to sit and think, put down
the genius obviously in us.

but likely we’ll just drink.
pop pills rail lines and such.