The jumpers wake us after landing, laughing & packing their parachutes into tight bundles in the sloping field outside our window. So we turn
I clear the Grand Bar, the sun a burnished disk above the gaudy gambling town of Metropolis. A lone paddlefish, like an ICBM, launches
What’s it like: to escape, to phase through walls in smokin’ black & gold but not splatter yourself small? I’ve tried to ghost. Sucked
I have been thinking about your lips since four this morning. What will the morning say when it gestures with your dark and slender