The Caveat Onus fifty-six I have a fear of flowers their anatomy confuses me the store-bought kind are meant to conjure a magic one comes to expect on the steps of a lighted porch others lead a desperate life in a box fastened to the window ledge of a sixty-floor apartment building I hope my mind never comes to that the stakes are stacked against me finding my way out of a lost beautiful feeling is something I no longer want to know how to do fifty-five    sixty-four Dave Brinks