Chicken, steak, chicken:
three meats in one day are bound
to make a man sick.

The heat of the sun
cannot reach our shaded seat
or warm our cold beer.

A morning rainstorm
outshines its competitor,
the sprinkler system.

The old hairdresser
wraps an electric razor
around the old chair.

Bright sunshine, no shade,
emergency vehicles:
one-hundred degrees.

Eighty-six degrees
is acceptable at noon,
but not after dark.

One-thousand baseballs
suspended from the rafters,
swaying in the breeze.

An inactive chef
will not run out of propane
for at least twelve months.

Why are these eggs brown?
Are they burnt? Did you burn them?
Why should I eat them?

A glass of water
perched precariously, then
a spill and a crack.