The brain has powerful filters
that screen out most
thoughts and images:

A human begins
by claiming

to be something else:

a red bird
in a picture book;

a little red
Corvette.

Flag lolling 
on its pole
like a dog’s tongue.

What’s to like
if not contrast?

Shadows beneath
the model’s sharp

cheekbones, her ample
yet precise lips.

Don’t worry.
We have armies
of showrunners

No lie!
Need input!
Not ghosting you!

Let Scott equal “I.”

Scott says, “I
asked my team
to pull your records.”

Unlikely, 
the homelife
of water

We wanted to tell someone everything

(or everyone something)—

how large and limp

the leaves were

in the half-sun,

but what is “half-sun,”

finally?

More than a fistful
of stubby green fingers
pushing up through gravel.