No Pennies for Charon The wet is sticky. The water is glass and hair. The fluids are not. The ropes are conduits; the trees are steel and rust. The flowers are silver-stemmed and biteful, their petals waxy parasites. The leaves are mercury? The liquids seem quite often hollow and dense; maple syrup and silicone, glycerin and grease. Instead of soda there is Napalm in a Can. I think I woke up here from a nap....could only have been dozing while the journey began for I remember the feeling of being in a boat. Asea. My blankets turned into a small pod, half-kayak half-cocoon and I didn’t put up much fight. The ocean was made of shag and I felt its spray in my face, hissing in my hair. There were matches in my pockets but no salt; there is only sugar here.  ¶ 5:53 PM