I had my caricature drawn at the theme park once
and the artist—sixteen, seventeen, maybe—
hands me back this sketch of Charlie Brown.

Turning from the window, Gerald made as if to sneeze.
“Who’s allergies are these?” Ava snapped,
repenting only her apostrophe.

Why do birds suddenly appear
every time you are near?
It must be the mealworms
that live in your ear.

Before I departed from the dentist’s office,
the doctor asked me if I wanted to get an imprint
of my teeth to have on file, an impression
as part of their ongoing collection.

Who needs two eyes
when the show is dull
and the right people go?