There was, love of cabinetmakers.
Love like flash light in a subway tunnel
where the train isn’t gonna go no more.
Love of muddy raincoats, love of crimpered hair, love of the night monkey, love of the shoehorn. Love of files.
When we talk about a thing or an idea, we often assume that the “thing” or “idea” has a higher degree of existence than the “talk about”.
Love, no one knows when the world will end.
Love of the monochrome, love of the monotone.
And love of lists.
Tainted ____, child books, wool and pet rabbits.
Love of coasters, love of stew.
Not love of persons who put poison ________ (in the air / in the earth / in the water / in the food / in the blood / beneath your pillow). Love of grandmothers, love of ghosts.
Loud and gliding trombone love.
Love of petals.
Love of saws.
I wore sandals and socks.
Ice cream cake! Someone brought me ice cream cake!
Ice cream cake, I love your strange unmelting ice cream.
And love of space.