In/on a world of inter/inner fighting/competing species/states of energy sits a creature looking for a buffet of insects readily available in trimmed lawns interconnected in a suburban landscape.

Kelli smiles.

She serves a few customers in Pizza Hut on a sunny Thursday morning at the edge of town.

A Sysco food delivery truck passes by.

The old National Guard armory and recruiting center sits empty.

Land cleared for a shopping centre when times were good and plans for moneymaking schemes flowed like fool’s good out of city fathers’ minds grows weeds without profit in mind for insects, birds and wildflower watchers.

The local university extension campus attracts those who hunger for knowledge and better job prospects.

A mansion holds its aristocratic head high.

Kelli perspires while the billionaire Olsen twins appear on TV as time-rewound youngsters “acting” in a studio to resemble life in a full house.

Government authorised murder takes place around the world, the leaders denying and in denial.

Hyphenated hyena housesitters host herbal henna hen hosemakers happily hopping hats hissing hissy fits, fittingly fxed.

Suddenly, the Bob Newhart Show comes to mind, reminding one that two generations of sitcoms and one generation of Internet/web sensation videos have slipped under the bridge since this writer attended the UT/ETSU Kingsport extension center.

Time to wish Kelli well and pick up a repaired Siemens hearing aid with one-year warranty for 200 buckeroos.