morning lines #131

rode my bike to the pharmacy, got my antiseizure drug, browsed the bookstore for Dying: A Memoir, drank sweet frozen coffee, rode home with the wind in my helmeted hair, kissed the dog, and ate little tofu squares, peas, and rice, more diorama than dinner, an acrylamide brick village, its sticky white walkways dotted haphazardly with blips of
​Kelly green