There is a river near where I live.
Without any fish.
In places, it almost looks possible.
So I made a fisherman.
And gave him dreams of the sea…
The only problem is, I never made him a head.
IN THIS STRANGE
DREAM OF MINE…
I AM A TISSUE-THROWING
TIGER THROWING TISSUE
AT MY TAMER
The night sky in Springdale, outside Zion National Park.
Native American Prayer Flags
A CHAINED-FENCE RIVER.
MY CITY. LOS ANGELES; SO SWEET AND FINAL…
THE CLOUDS DEFLECT THE SUN’S LIGHT…
WHAT SNEAKS THROUGH CROWNS SLENDER PALM TREES.
THE PEOPLE DRIVE AROUND AND HARDLY
RECOGNIZE THE SPLENDOR.