Friday, August 26, 2016

Times Were

The problem was that the thing became another sort of distraction, in the mezzanine, it meant three mezzanines, not two, or even one. Grain, cattle, babies all holding on to the present day. I could count them on one hand. Did they even miss me? Was the mezzanine the prime spot, as in destination, say, the next Aspen or Jackson Hole?

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Mezzanine

That and the dog house. Glad of the opportunities here, take the fact that you could let go of a ping pong ball from the Atrium, releasing it from so high up into the courtyard seeing if it would break or just watch it, like a game, just bouncing.

When I Was A Custodian

Wait. I am one now and I heard a raccoon chittering. There are so many times I've gone the other way--sometimes behind myself--to stand in the lucid. "It is more than just a job." Although what, is not on the list. You could get written up for not doing one thing. I was going to check it off just now, but have misplaced my chemicals next to Deady Hall. My body likes the night, thinks it's day, still acting on a dime.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Choices?

So many rocks to crack open. I cannot crack them all, right? Even though some are thunder eggs and some are looking glass machines. That, I made up, see how lazy? Or, is this the real work, working? We only deal with the thin sacks. We don't touch what's thick. There is a strict routine.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

When I Was A Rockhound

I searched in the old leaves, finding Ravens and paper sacks full of opals. I loved the way Idaho claimed me. Before it was only water which called me, now I can truthfully say otherwise.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

These Are Fine Lights

We got the gluten running the vines-- escape the crowds and see me. There are the winds and heels, now carnations. Here is the mail, lots to throw away. Making it new. Watering everything takes an hour, twice a day. Convincing.

Friday, August 19, 2016

Unspoken Hunger

Little by little, the empire lost its hold on my memory. Yes, I saw the rubble through her eyes, breathed in the toxic dust and clonked the bricks together when it was all over. In bright daylight, it shimmers. Nights, with the globe on high, it is easy to wander, tasting my hunger.