’90’S SHORT ❋ Nooks Krannie

When I called you an envelope, I expected a few loss of eyebrow hair. The flesh dome where your upper lip fights to meet an uneven grass bed, was a surprise. The background noise was of your choosing, how limited 90’s people bicker in your light box about having sex with someone’s best friend, I should’ve known it would make you cringe. I never see it coming even though you’ve told me about your disdain for $19 worth of u-haul space/it’s a metaphor/it’s enough to fit little fire ants that gnaw at every syllable ever spoken. Every syllable by you & me. By us. But we don’t have best friends, not anymore. Not since we gathered our kneecaps and shipped them with knives to a color that exists on every wheel in every America. Can I still talk about how irrelevant the whole subject is? Can I whisper in a coke bottle and expect not to have dollar bills shoved down my throat? I prefer pound sterling currency, it’s meatier and the balls don’t stink as much of molded dough. Jokes. Just keep lounging in your pot cloud, blurring the light between you and the us, of us. ‘90’s was so rad and these people cheated back in 2001. Hey, I never noticed the freckled turtle on your shirt!