turn down service

everything morning

honing

new

bad 

lucks

Los Angeles and/or

Pasadena

the index is a fantasy

but still I’m counting on

remembering this

baggage claim

because  

my journey 

overflowing

in a suit like a frame

it’s a trip

to the prairie 

always

that generous

runway 

remember

 first ideas hiding

       in winter

        shining 

        exactly

where everything was bleeding

into everything else

still

making up what turns

a simple web

from a walk

caught on top of

highway river cloudbank

just trying and failing to 

draw anything

out of

last grip

of nothing special

sorry to be so

opaque it’s just

hometown 

voice mix

cursived

so bad at

proper nouns but 

Tulsa

haunting one

neighborhood all winter

calling it mine like a 

dream and joke

frozen on the corner alone

she shared that

she wasn’t playing

because she had a dream

so suspicion

black lit

what she said next

                               “it was all trio”

looking it up

I miss

I miss 

I miss

that third thing

you write to

besides us

fielding

sheer

bodied

prophecies 

aka

listening