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Think of some cliché, any cliché, that attempts to teach some life lesson: the grass is always greener on the other side; stop and smell the roses; don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. (Feel free to use one of those if you don’t know a lot of clichés!) Now, forget the cliché. You are living, in the sensory world, the sense of that cliché at the level of physical, not the emotional or psychological, experience of it. You’re stopping, smelling, roses. You’re looking across a fence into greener grass. You’re peering into the mouth of a horse. In your freewrite, learn from this experience the opposite of the cliché. That grass is purple. The horse has a switchblade between its teeth. The roses are plastic. You got this by now ☺

Mundanely MUNDANELY Almost
By Rodney A. Brown

Inquiries round actually
didn't. They feel
lit. Surprised the
easy. Shit drop
bucket. Under in
container's face.
White slicing
exposed. Pee's pee
here. What are
its ___ walking the line flaccid Johnson crossed?

Greener the grass was not. I tried to bloom where I was newly planted.
By Renée Szostek

Seeking green fields, I
leave. Finding only sand, I
cry and plant cacti.

Bees Go Pickle
By MP (with a little help from JP&EP)

They say you catch more bees with honey than vinegar,
We say you can catch more with the right pickle -
Thin-sliced, chip-sized,
Brined sweet with a little pucker,
Bread and butter with a mild pH,
Could drive a hive distracted.

silk purse from a sow’s ear
By Logan Corey

wire-tender hairs folded
in and out, in
and out, like melting
a sandwich together, or fusing
split skin