Stain on freshly washed clothes. Almost immediate. As if the bleached whites are asking for tomato spatter. A caprese accident Jackson Pollock style. It's not enough to look like a design. It looks like an accident. A "before" photo in some godforsaken detergent commercial. This stain warrants Billy Mays to rise from the grave and sell me Oxyclean just one more time. Alien slime stickers from early-aughts vending machines that beg for quarters. The colors are cheap, the materials are toxic and made in China. But the childlike satisfaction at turning the germ-infested metal knob and having that prize come out is worth it. The price of the experience. The token is unimportant and will probably get lost, break, or collect dust in less than a day. Wine, coffee, and tea stains. Stains on teeth. Wine-stained cheek bone pleasurous treasure. Gumption and guppies and parafin wax. Skateboard, surfboarding. Storms coming. Better get inside. Stains of ash and electricity on a shocked tree stump. As if getting cut down wasn't bad enough. Wilder notions have come to me during storms. Cut down all the power lines. Leave it up to God. Some people would. Some people can. Racing down freeway with gum strips in cup holders. Welded together by some heated miracle.