"Wet Yellow Paint."
When father died, his ghost used mouthwash.
If everyone were a poet, what a sad, sad world that would be.
Everything would be covered in wet yellow paint.
It makes me want to change the subject.
11 potted plants were alive all summer.
Now they are dying in their big round pots,
and their abnormally joyous hearts are confused.
So short a life,
Goddamnit."