He says he doesn’t like pines because the pollens give him allergies. The lines on the road here look like birthday candles, and there is a nice little leather glove on the road. Death has been chasing me this morning like these birthday candles. Is that serious? The animals don’t seem to care. Things change …
Where are you now? Here alive, not dead. Where are you headed? Death. Where do you want to be? Here alive. You are here.
Change, change, change. Delta gate two. Fat man in surgery mask parks nearby. Nerves straight into the skull via the teeth. Who would like a root canal? The caterpillar mouth of a terminal tunnel waits to suck onto our departing shuttle, a long cross of a plane. To the forest. An emerald and yellow gem …
https://youtu.be/iu5YhEhB8w4 And the calliope crashed to the ground. Curbside delivery. Asking the morning sounds for a hint of what’s to come. A meteor shower blocked out by the clouds. Did you see the burning flame balls, the cosmic bursting rocks while you slept? Are you good enough to dream behind the clouds? The morning coffee …
So what is the opposite of this death thing? A dream? The lights on. Arising. Awakening. Understanding a pack of lies then knowing they’re lies. That kind of awakening. Lights on to the bird’s chirp. The humming engines and the tire treads on pavement. A dog chewing a bone stuffed with peanut butter. Tiny drops …
