I wish to tear
these mountains down!
Rebuild them atom by
atom in your mind
Every molecule
a monument to their beauty,
so that you may remember
them so long as you may live:
Flaming amber at daybreak;
Violet and sage, wilted rose and orange peel at sunset.
Remnant of catastrophe.
Earth shook her bed sheets
and left a wrinkle on the aeons.
“Quick, before Mars returns,”
let us take a moment to rest
in the arms of her
peaceful precipice.
The sun is slow
To rise here.
Obscured by
Eastern peaks
Light streams and flails
Rails and breaks forth
Across the valley first
Then the waking city…
“Wake Up!”
A thousand eyes
Are above you
Looking down
Reaching the light
Before it’s even near you.
Floating, clusters
Of characters, colors,
Bursts of enthusiasm
Blanketing the sky.
“Did Balloon Fiesta start today?”
Looking up
Bubbles dot the sky
A rainbow of
Colorful forms
Separate Vessels
Full of lives
And danger…
Hundreds together
Inhaling thinner
Oxygen than
Those below.
The roar
Tearing through
Silent, cloudless
Skies, Alarming!
Then warming
Then lifting
Then floating
In the parkie
Morning…
We sit and eat
And stare at
The paintings
On the wall
Across the
Street.
They don’t
Really represent
What they
Look like.
Proportions
Off, eyes
Too small
For large
Black heads
Dog and cat,
Couch of
Snake and fish,
Blue iguana.
Staring contest
w/ the cartoon
Crew across
The wall
From them.
GoodShepard
Animal clinic.
“The Doctor Is in.”
The Birds are
on the move
Snatching up the
Last mating
Bugs of Summer
Slow
Oblivious
Fattening up for
Winter’s rest
Or supper.
Anytime I Go
Anywhere, I know
Exits and barricades.
I have to know
Where we are to go
If you’re on a rampage.
Your second privilege becoming our existential threat.
What do I tell my children?
“There there little one, don’t you cry.
There’s ‘thoughts and prayers’ for us when we die.”
“Now, now, there there, don’t you despair.
Run for the exit, it’s over there.”