dollar store glasses it was always fishtank season. i talked to our pennies until they they grew papery wings. fly away. as a kid i saw the world like a monet painting. bud & blurr & blossom. running through a field of scissors & emerging with my skin cut into ribbons. i felt every cough brambles made. stroked moss on backs of trees. all fours. closed my eyes & tried to meditate but instead gossiped with butterflies. after the woods, my brother & i would go to dollar tree to try to see clearly. put reading glasses on & squinted at plastic statues of parrots & pirates. we never purchased a pair.