Laughter erupted from her belly and shot out her mouth like pigeons through an open cage door, schoolchildren bursting into summer vacation, water from a tapped hydrant.

Her hair burst from her head like a fireworks shell erupting, framing her face in spray of red-blond energy.

Abandoned like an empty beer bottle, cigarette butt, worn-out shoe.

Suddenly, she emitted a loud, long fart, like air escaping a beach ball, exhaust pipe of a Model T, tire-inflating hose at the service station, and this without any forewarning borborygmus.

Squeal like a cheerleader named prom queen, aging retiree placing the game-winning bingo button, frenzied fan finding Johnny Depp in her supermarket.

Poetry comes out of you like a pot of oatmeal boiling over.

Fluorescent lights on the ceiling lit up the white Formica top of her desk like an operating table, white-sand beach at high noon, French fries under the heat lamp at McDonald’s.

Like a fire alarm going off in your ear, sulfur up your nose, mouth full of sour milk, reality is what it is – you deal with it.

Probing the corners of the room like a caged cat, fly caught in a jar, fart in an elevator.