My sleepy summer noons

Of restless texture,

At times regurgitate

In acidic ascent.

All sweet smell and stinky taste,

And unmindful like.

Perfect booger rounds

Were hard to make.

Just like fake perfect smiles

When strange grandmas

Ushered me into their old-wool hugs.

Unbeautiful moments

Abound in childhood

But romantic conspiracies

Apply wax tinted lenses

To make it like Hollywood’s eternal,

Collective memory of nostalgia.

- July 2, 2013

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