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:
I’m lonely and the only Black person inside the paid Cézanne
exhibit today.
It isn’t the trees but the space
between the trees,
This is the year strangerswill say terrible things
about you
There would have been chaos,confetti mined from the cliffsof Michoacán.
