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Monday, Aug. 19, 2013

Something to do with Swollen Lymph Nodes

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Let's go carve our names in a stump with a heart

in between them, pick every damn dandelion in sight

to hand out to undeserving ruffians just because and

then go home to make some weird Asian tea we can't

pronounce.  If love doesn't encompass pocket knife

etching, gathering flora, or steeping strange herbs,

then count me out.  There's nothing more sinister

than a Hummer trying to parallel park

in front of the cathedral.  Dinging bumpers while the bell tolls.

I think a certain peace is realized after successfully

ripping open a bag of Ruffles.  If you pick and pick and pick

you'll get the price tag off the wine bottle or a rivulet

of blood down the calf and it's always just for you,

so why bother?  So much stripping away to get to

gooey centers we wouldn't even know what to do with.

We've all had the dream where we hand our father

the 3/8 inch socket to tighten something ironically metric

and awaken without the grease or grime recurring.

Oh shucks love!  Open a fresh box of Kleenex.

See if you can pull out just one.

 

Jesse Manser grew up in Middleton. He graduated from UW-Milwaukee and

continues to work, write and live on the city’s eastside.