An evening session that was carried away with, placed on a gurney, sent careening down the infirmary hallway, into the bucket-o-needles, a pot or two containing soups with nettles, stakeouts and stacked (those kidney-shaped basins) formed into columns and gathering their course & horses with schemes on highway racing, plots about hissing, or wincing, a mile of printer paper with words on and on about coworker dissing, each and to their colleague, they would do their ties up in a suspecting orange, but spying sprites (out of each corner) a splicing blue, what a hue, that evening missed or spent hell, a goof, a goodbye kitty, a pillow-wreck on coastal route 60, bones and goners, wonders or boners, the spit-in-the-yikes was for rinsing, and it was a warm hush that filled each denture thereafter.
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