On
the last day of March it begins to snow + it continues into April + that line
about black boughs + cruelty echoes across the New Mexico landscape like a dirt
devil full of tumbleweeds
I
ask the woman behind the counter what I want there’s a silence between us that
would be hilarious if it wasn’t insane
The
pictures of the quilt across the National Mall the largest bed in the universe
– rest your head on Lincoln’s lap + stare into the dome of the sky + what sort
of dream is there in the circular night sky – is it a mirror of the day that
happened or one of the future
Wrap
the cloth around you and roll in the grass until everything is covered in green
until your skin is stained with life
No comments:
Post a Comment