And I knew the perfect remedies:
-Any ingredient found in the falsetto of Buddhism.
-Night air, in a doctor’s prescription for the tropics.
-Papery thin snores of a sleeping park bench.
-Red rash, vacationing in certain harsh detergents.
-All bits of Bach in the soup bowl of ear candy.
-Every skillet with drawers of smelling salt.
-Lemon or garlic wrapped in uncharted archipelagos.
-Footprints, when they can be peeled like a banana.
-Identical mannequins in the auction of spare parts.
-And purgatory, especially when wearing a paisley scarf.
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