Polish the young woman’s ego like wax on a wood floor, Shinola on shoes, spit on an apple.

gleaming like a searchlight, Iowa moon, silver plate.

Hung in the air like fart gas in an elevator, insecurity in a prom ballroom, guilt around a police lineup.

Gasps erupted from his nostrils like grouse from a thicket, schoolboys onto a recess yard, grease spatters from frying bacon.

Whacked away under the desk like hail on a barn roof.

Divided like boys and girls at a summer camp, egg whites and yolks in grandma’s lemon-meringue-pie recipe, dogs and cats in pet heaven.

Studied all year and wrote in my journal like a nun works a Rosary, dog with a new bone, bee in his hive’s back room.

Washed-out like last year’s swimsuit.

Screamed like a manic cheerleader heaping encouragement on her high school’s punt returner as he breaks through the first wall of blocks.