Things To Do In A Field Of Daisies
 
In this scenario she brings her hairpins and I bring
several sheets of sandpaper. We wear kid gloves
and our best intentions of bruises that won't heal.
 
Scene One starts with an argument. She claims her 
idea of a good time is making out in the corner booth
of a seedy bar. I insist the most fun is walking across
hot coals for a can of stewed tomatoes. Extra large is
my blue label, checkered flags my expectations, waving
every long distance. Or kissing is a cold sore where
stitches devour the mouth. What's your alibi?
 
Mine is a list of chairs willing to be pushed aside to make
space for a dance floor. And if there's anything I've learned
while the dog was asleep it's that love is not as illusive as
you think. Fact is, you can find it on the shelf of any major
supermarket right next to the poppyseed dressing.