There is a tightness in my head
As if my eyes were chewing gum.
Today I learned that tequila is not afraid to be its own drink.
That is to say, it does not take orders.
Not on the rocks.
Not(e)s of coconut, pepper, and reminiscent moon.
I have not meditated since last month.
There is no Monastery de Lunazul.
The pop-up pourer on this bottle
Was a nice surprise, said my friend, startled.
Now he is busy making apple bread.
Of the rats in the walls, all are dead.
Plants people the inside because it is cold out there.
Who says I can’t accomplish depth?
The Writing of John B. Randall 