Thesimapussies.

While peeling kumura
I think of immunology and genetics
of veins and ventricles and tenticles and fermentation.
A pleasing smell of vinegar.

While my bottom touches the sofa cushion
I think of writing a thesis
a compost of fiddlesticks and faggots.
A bay leaf you can't digest.

While someone blows on a baby's face
I think of my sebaceous glands
of follicles and spawnicles and the hair matrix.
A Keanu Reeves 'cut circa Bogus.

All the while
All the while
Amongst the piles of thoughts and sharp retorts
A germinating smile.