. Eleven o’clock bake sale

The trick to life is going with the flow.
You just arrive a color soon assigned.
Brush it off your shoulder, let it go.

So do not think twice, wear a pretty bow.
Brown paper sacks, cats inside hats that rhyme.
The trick to life is going with the flow.

Dust your nose, simply add pink rose and glow.
Dance to the click, click of the potroast’s time.
Brush it off your shoulder, let it go.

Petticoats, long flower aprons that flow.
Numb the truth with margaritas and lime.
The trick to life is going with the flow.

Book club sits in tidy uniform rows.
This is how it is, the way it was designed.
Brush it off your shoulder, let it go.

Spending nine months barefoot, booties to sew.
Visit the butcher shop, one gram a dime.
The trick to life is going with the flow.
Brush it off your shoulder, let it go.



-Eryn O’neal Lie/Lay

We find our glowing inner truths in bed
And darker fare—engage in shadow play
Lovers share a body (and a head)

Our lips stop quoting all the things we've read
Our public should-haves slowly melt away
We find our glowing inner truths in bed

Skin becomes a map that can be read
Biographies are whispered, plans are laid
Lovers share a body (and a head)

Like priests, we guard the secrets that are said
We reach to touch our shaft of God's fine rays
We find our glowing inner truths in bed

When hips and lips conspire to be wed
And moments pass, too fragile for the day
Lovers share a body (and a head)

After famine, dreams are gently fed
After thirst, a river bids us wade
We find our glowing inner truths in bed

Such cleansing as the bitter past is shed!
Each night, again, December turns to May
We find our glowing inner truths in bed
Lovers share a body (and a head)

—Sarah Torribio