Adel Limpet
Adel Limpet has plans. Not just cod liver oil, make things run smoothly, wilted kale plans, but big.
In her mouth, ideas are crunched up florescent bulbs;
white glass chicklets to be spat out or swallowed down
like lost baby teeth or French mints.
And in her eyes, the future of inventions, both small and large, loom.
Adel has plans.
She has no money, no job, no house, no kids, no car, no pets.
But, she has plans.
She dreams on glass pillows and fluffed rice while the cars whir by and shake the subway
to steam.
Those lit ideas of white buildings and cricket houses and butterfly streamers in fields with flowers twice the size of
her, are real, tangible, glowing green and silver.
The filth of streets on the verge of dying, black under her fingernails, isn't real.
It isn't part of Adel's plan.
She no longer asks for coins; no longer begs for food.
She has her ideas to chew on- and chew she does... White lightning and florescent glass thoughts in a gulp, fill her
belly today, while thoughts yet invented, still flickering in sparks and birth, swallow tomorrow.
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