Decay placement contends with triangular aesthetics this balance invites singular expressions to explain away the nose dive to reach peculiar wafts spreading about the musty essence deep inside the Hollow Earth. A
hand drops its grasp on a handful of metallic screws, performs Tai-Chi movements and perfumes the tendrils of inky suspensions, drawn by painted fingernails through what’s invisible to naked vision. But
among the contenders for space, a name holds its place beside the infected smile owned by another name whose relevance to piercing tongues exposes the metallic scent resembling fingers scented by metallic screws
as blood in the mouth of babes.
Realtor set a bowl of lemons on a console table
She placed by the entryway
Client’s apartment building. Potential buyers
Toured the facility, noticed the lemons
And conducted debates
As to whether
The lemons were real,
Was the mystery
While hosting a tour
Realtor bent over
To grab a pen she dropped
On the floor,
Her bottom bumped
The console table,
Knocked a lemon from the bowl,
And it fell
Onto the ground.
The sound of its impact
Became new criteria
Pulp or plastic.
“See…” a buyer said. “I told you they were fake.
No way a real lemon sounds like that when it hits
“I don’t know.” Partner responded. “I’ve heard some empty lemons