thrice the short stem

cut stem grow into a vine crawls into a pot and bloom into five stems research on the counter turning pink water screens its caramel cup filled with sleepy time post-its stuck like sap when sliced soil spots on the bracket of my mind spoons in dirt into a cup and babies will bloom corn dogs grow on sticks I say and i eat two more stem- icks, stem-icks... I get bored of waiting so I get up and crawl into the skin of others and see what they’re blooming and into five blondes air heads screen nothing but fill up with tabloids it’s time to go when the clock hits look up nothing time set cut stem and go.