Pink Floyd’s Animalsdrones through a thindreamless sleep I keep
each day you wake wishing that what is, is not, and that’s no way to live.
the owl refuses to dispense any wisdombut has a few questions of its own:
the ogre of gratitude dangling like a chandelier from the rearview mirror asks ifyou know how lucky you are, if you’ve meditated on that yet, if your heart
My therapist says a boy with a secretis easy to control. I wonder howSteve learned mine, if I told him
in exchange for a public chance at a longer private life, you give themnot your body, but your body’s one error in calculation. the swerve,
This is the year strangerswill say terrible things
about you
There would have been chaos,confetti mined from the cliffsof Michoacán.