as he winds through the produce
aisle in Whole Foods: looking for yellow
pears and lettuce for a salad:
his bed hair at 8pm a consortium
of the woman he slept with last
night and the wild look he's
been going for since he read Chabon's
book on literary style and being
a man - he's got his eyes set on
being healthy wealthy and wise,
the prize to be the gold herring of cool.
Open your mouth to the beer can,
draw that water in, draw it back out.
He's opining to be an opossum:
awesome, ain't it?
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