ORANGE SODA
                                               
                                              Before she felt the cardboard she always lost the spelling be
                                              on the first word. Which had absolutely no outcome on her life
                                              (except her choice of colleges). In fact she recalled this had
                                              always been the way. Then in simulating push-ups she reached
                                              for the ceiling and hundreds and hundreds of lost shirt buttons
                                              plummetted upon her. She like prune juice and tofu with wheat germ
                                              but despised gristle on her frogs legs in white wine. The sudden
                                              trickle of the word "sperm" distracted her for a moment before
                                              realized what grandma had said (old and decapitating) about the
                                              air pressure of canned goods on salty summer mornings. She picked
                                              her nose ravishly hoping not to find anything of importance though
                                              her name was Rhonda she never chewed gum. She glanced sharply when
                                              the dog, porcelain and cushund, farted aloud she always had green
                                              ink on her fingers but never her elbows and was always happy when
                                              the dog was there to lick the salt off her shins. Porcelain farts
                                              always made her very extreme. Nevermind the moments she counted the
                                              destitute and mangled wooden toothpicks she counted (and kept in
                                              a private collection on the top shelf of the rust colored locker
                                              hidden in her closet) by the unsheltered woman on the corner. Until
                                              one day, the man with illegal films of salamander came to visit. At
                                              the point in the time she had a revelation: Dandrugg on her shoulders
                                              made her tingle with excitement, but only for a moment then she blew
                                              them away. Longing for that expe-i-ence again she asked the man:
                                              Influenced by nothing she stared at the dead toad splattered on the
                                              tire of the garbage truck accross the way and, "I can't spell that."