Clean Up Hitter

When you've put away a wallet.
A keys.  A keys?  I drove here.
It starts without them.  Noted.
Well my phone is here.
Friday!  Wednesday? I will take a vowel.
Keys in the tray
where they poke through
the plastic bead lattice and
we can see
which set
by the teeth and notch and tags worn smooth.
Sunglasses?  Check major.
The weather in Schan Rchlandia is a beautiful
78 degrees with clear skies and an early moon
if you look out of the windows on the left hand side
as we approach.
The seat belt light will be turning off in a few minutes,
enjoy your stay and thank you
for choosing Tiger Radio for all of your
travel needs.
We are on schedule and with a little luck
we will be touching down
a few minutes ahead of schedule.
My wallet
is beside the keys.
My dreams are nipping.
A coffee please.  Yes, just one.  Thank you.

A Brief Intrusion

The dream
in which you shatter all of your teeth
into confetti
is still a dream.

One hundred and seventy seven yards,
give or take,
the couplings of train yard sound
the same as the tick of plastic gears
inside the wall clock.

The truce was a lie.
The range is live.
Hear a pin drop
and window panes throb.

Half of the way home.
Calm blue oceans.
Witt and memorized.
Can do spectrauma.






Island to island
and around the world
in thirty seconds.







Delusions.



Seams reveal the saw's path.


Spark to ember and ember
to dust.  The carts trundle on,
squink and squeal,
metal on metal.

152 cars, approximately 73%
scrap metal.  The rest, fluid tankers, painted
by the same tagger.  At the river.

There are many places to hide teeth if you want
to build a collection.  Personally,
I could take them or leave them.  My deal
is moving toward
a beak.  I'm not sure
if shedding teeth
is part and parcel
along the way,
but I'm game.