Electric

I have a soft roll on my desk
which two or three times
I’ve squeezed very gently
when no one is looking
butter
sprinkle of salt
soup
dream
the price of gold is falling
I can’t see behind me out the window
but the reflection
on the floor suggests
intermittent sun
tomorrow
I will sit on the museum steps
and read
last week
a pigeon actually flew into my chest
an avocado on my desk
is playing dead and prehistoric
another politician
has behaved terribly
later
I will take an online personality test
and do better
turns out the sky is falling down
in fat pieces
later
I will be caught in a vicious cycle
of removing strawberry pips from my teeth
with strawberries
later
moving through the rain reading the texts from a person
who is the person I fell in love with
I will be electric in the world