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ever dumbening
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a confusion, birthed of jicama and daikon and their toothy resistance, pushes. i push back, losing.
rain-soaked cardboard sinks itself slowly into the grit of the sidewalk as its singular spicy scent rides the cool air.
rich sesame oil makes its way, drifting from the back of the korean kitchen, resting upon my heavy black sweatshirt, following me around towards sleep.
a bolt of crimson nylon leans; so far cut only in theory.
muscles mind and nerves can't agree as i slide through 'slanting single whip' to 'look at fist under elbow'.
the 100 percent cotton bond greedily takes the soft lead from my pencil, the vague image from my mind.
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030110
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