non-alcoholic beer is like mowing the carpet.
you open a window to let the fresh air out.
you clip obituaries like coupons
for daylight savings,
pull gardens of teeth up by the roots
and wonder now
what to do with all these weeds.
you jumprope strands
of time and play leapyear.
every word you untie is a crossword
shoelace.
replacement therapy.
latexamination.
still, your tongue's
in knots while abbreviating an ampersand's antithesis.
you always slide a welding mask over
your face
before igniting
acetylene enemas.
before being careful,
you watch out.