Push comes to shovels

Sweet elastic film. The kind that grabs you and splits your eyeballs with acorn-like rainbows. Magical elves dancing in skittles commercials. Glossy popcorn popped fresh in automotive paint shops. Bumpers dented and hanging having fulfilled their purpose. Shiny windowshields shielding wind from shine. Plausible possibilities. We all organize ourselves as I do in the morning. Gather together. Look at myself in the mirror. Squirel face and large hands. Possum paws, more like racoons, blindly act on the ideas I send them. When I outstretch my arm it looks alien. Something out of a movie or an automotive assembly line. Foreign and strange. I can pick my headphones up with just a thought. Placing them on my head bone for ears to hear. Sound vibrates air. Pushing pushes. Thoughts ignite. I start to write.