Acid reflux flashbax of pouring spoons into empty cash registers, knock once for a good time, twice to watch the tide rush away from the door, welcome mats never clean enough dirt from the sole so knock three times for the tidal wave we all hope is waiting, catch the tiger's toe cold and prey on the humans who trip like robots becuase their clocks decided they weren't made for these times and assassinated the microwaves before turning themselves in.
Staring at the shaky blue cup stuck inside the sun offers only a lesson in blindness, a lesson in absolutes, absolutely,
why sing when no one will dance,
why dance when the earth already moves for us,
folding clean asphalt and dirty laundry over rival neighborhoods and earthworms who forgot to take their helmets off,
why celebrate the death of kings when we yearn for the loves of queens,
so knock three times or go through the garage, either way those clouds look like rain.