I. Impression
Time sips me from a straw.
I plunge into a waiting room
where walls discharge saliva.
Folklore ignores it and sits
patiently reading periodicals.
The floor vibrates; an opening
emerges, begins to suction me
inside, but is then detoured
by monumental armors,
carriages, and huge quotation
mark-embroidered mittens.
II. Recipe
In a sound-proof room,
pour a tablespoon
from a bottle of oil
made with gene-related
and familiar cerebral cortexes
(with an exception
to the famed,
who have oil bottles
also made
with cerebral cortexes
of strangers)
onto a pan
that used to function
as a clock.
Then add
A lb of aura.
Keep adding oil
everyday
and then gradually
every other day,
then every week,
and every other week, etc.,
up to at least
60 used calenders
(with an exception
to the famed,
who have water towers
for oil bottles,
so it would take them
more paper).
After the bottle
has emptied,
pour acid
directly onto
the aura surface
until it morphs
into oblivion.
Note:
serve it well-done.
To make sure of that,
stick it with something,
and it should give
0 resistance.