poetry stunt

"Hey, why do you cut the ends off the banana when you're making banana tea?" I asked Ming.  

Lately he's been making banana tea.  They say the peel has more magnesium and other nutrients than the actual tender fruit.

"Cause they're yuckie," he said.

"Why are they yuckie?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.

"Like are there bugs in it?"

"No," he said.

"What is yuckie?" I asked.  "Yuckie is bugs.  Or slimy, like a slug."

"Maybe spider webs," said Ming, mumbling.

There was a thick spider web by the swamp cooler and water heater.  When my arm touched it, it felt rubbery and disgusting, though I have nothing against spiders.

Sleeping is terrible.  I slept around 9:30 to 11.  Then 2:30-4.  Hmm, that's not really enough.  I said I would take a nap later.

Eating is confusing.  Life is weird.

I think of stunts as dangerous and dramatic.  They can get a point across, like performance art.  I don't really want to be involved.  But I was thinking of a small-scale poetry stunt.

Maybe stunt isn't the right word.  Maybe more of a project.

Maybe project is too grand.  More of an..instance.

I have a lot of project ideas.  Time, energy, and ideas work together to push life forward.  They are a cool cohort.