“The failing ship is Mozart.” That was several
dreams ago. Not even a dream but a thought
bubble. Today’s line caresses the foliage
and profile of a mountain. Yesterday’s line
made “sense” of the field. Another for bird
song, pugs, goats, crickets, and a mower. Hash
marks, hairlines, curlicues, dashes, and points
Now I’m listening to Farscape commentary. Will
leave this… The deer lays down in the grass.
Looking toward Snively Ridge, the wind burns
the air. Long line of cars heading toward 156.
In “real life,” Virginia Hey has a model’s
cheekbones and a perfect skull according to
certain standards. I count three dead cats
and a deer. The way its forelegs are arranged,
Every being needs a home. Every animal needs
a safety bridge across the highway. The traffic
on 101 can’t be any worse. “He’s cute in a dim way,”
Perfect roadkill for Lloyd, but no doubt past
the moment of optimal freshness. What are
those fuzzy white things? Seeds of some sort;
black cottonwood, blue lupine, Farscape.