Mashed up bananas
bake slowly in the oven,
generating smells.

Time is running out.
Mere seconds remain, player.
Better take your shot.

Biking past buildings
built to manufacture things
built decades ago.

Four in the morning;
fitful Armageddon dreams
disrupt my slumber.

Ham, glistening glaze,
perfect Easter company…
Forget the rabbit.

The lawn is finished.
The sour stench of chemicals
hovers in the air.

This bland restaurant
somehow manages to serve
expensive dinner.

Along the back wall,
atop the radiator,
I can see the band.

As baseball begins,
ballparks look immaculate.
My lawn lags behind.

Having lost a tire,
my bicycle needs to be
carried in my arms.