waking up at dawn to pink streaks in the sky
a window full of sky from the couch for my suffering
head noise and lights on
the role of the pink streak
on his last day at the studio, rich made a grandfather clock from cardboard
we had hoagies and took group photos
later at the farm stand there were berries that looked like clear cinderella carriages
then we swam upstream with geese whose strength impressed and disturbed me
their synchronized movements, breaking each other’s wakes
the fallen bridge under fallen trees
trust and varied circumstances are not mutually exclusive
driving back to locktown on the gravel road with a beer I can live
I thought, how every mood is hooked deep in choice
she said they’re called the fence sitters
I will film L shoot her street light with a bb gun
we saw 4 fawns, 3 hamster sized bunnies, fireflies
sheets of rain came in onto the dinner table
he said, maybe the difference is that you like the wind
and I said yes type to me—
