Necktie pushed a throat bulge to pupils layered in blinks, loosened the knot and dropped arms at sides, ready position accepted whatever normal happenstance occurred. (C)ankles protruded under pant leg hem, posed wrinkles inside a Cheshire smile, invisible and included spoken word performances from footsteps imitating tap dance vulnerability.  Shoe laces flapped out of a frayed knot, thrummed cracked sidewalk and thanked rubber soles for elastic jazz notes. Throat belched greetings limited to beer escapes, down and out glances observing contrast of crab-grass adjusting tone from light green to bright white, morning fingers picked the weed and used it as a makeshift whistle, celebrating the extraordinary conclusion of saying hi and alluding just to go. At the stoplight blinkers clicked in congruence with the schizophrenic demeanor of a stranger talking to Mickey Mouse print speckled in fragments on his lonely chest. Poptart popped up and they stood parallel on each side of the toaster leaned forward like insatiable birdies, consumed the pastries, removed crumbs and strawberry filling from the corners of their mouths by wiping it onto looseleaf poetry. Coffee sips made coffee drips and that’s when Agnes slipped, found herself on her back, studying the stucco ceiling of her kitchen. 

Morning contains moments which could occur at any period in time, but feel relevant in place due to the sun’s position in the sky. 

Radical Freedom concludes at sunset. 

Pop Tarts taste better in the morning?