Pickup Poem Day 26

Every Color of Wearable Blanket

That toxic scent of Claire's:

vinyl and Betadine, the careless spending

of bubblegum girls and their giggle-

wander.  To be the Bic that lights her funeral

pyre in the neon mall of memory. Hidden 

is the new and final accessory

for the fall from seasons.

Fuck the butterflies in my daydream

notebook margins. This chrysalis

is warm. I shall take ten. No opening

will seduce me. I am a bed

in the streets and a lady

in a freak.