Breakfast

Pixies: "La La Love You."

One triple Americano in a biodegradable paper cup. One-half hunk of stale lemon-poppyseed poundcake.

Two dozen close readings of Shakespeare's sonnet 84.

In whose confine immured is the store that can produce such...such...
Or, why do I spend my Valentine's Saturday morning and afternoon in such a manner?

Rust never sleeps.