Switch the seedpod broadcast to sweetgum.

It’s fall. Nostalgic. Spiny,

round, dry, and brown. Everything starts

coming down. The sun wanes.

Weans.

These crest-fallen beans beat and strike the ground.

Shriveling. Life is short. 

Back to misreading graffiti in your favor:

I’m peach! I’m peach!

I think of you so fondly

in that color. My dog keeps finding seedpods

with his sweet gums (mouth). 

Ouch.

Why don’t you learn! 

Why don’t you know better this time? It’s painful! 

Not romantic. Nothing special. Politics, purely spectacle. 

Please, try again. Re-read:

Eject? Let go? 

IMPEACH!