Over Easy

Easy is not a condition so much as an unconscious decision, pure Darwin and simple as a lizard on a sunny winter rock, crazy not to be lazy when you’ve been running shiftless in a red dress on the skillet streets from bar to bar, stride becomes slide when quick means slick and why don’t we have siesta when we have so much fiesta, that fried shrimp po-boy curled up in your gut like a dog under a porch. Reprogram you phone so it sounds like distant birdsong, take up a penknife and recall how to whittle.

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