1. |
trace
02:16
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you shouldn't discourage me from looking up to you
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2. |
float
04:41
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I drift from place to place like a piece of flotsam.
I didn't write for a week. The rain is level-headed but doesn't spare me thought on the i10. Now I'm soaking wet in Santa Ana and shiver on the road. I woke up ghosting everyone on the drive to highland park. I went to the Estrada house uninvited and without calling first. We weren't alone. Catalina was wearing a bathrobe and she was smoking furiously. I told them it was raining. In the kitchen I show them art. We agree that some are better soaked. I asked what it would take to have all our friends in one place. Then I wished I could stay a week and left them.
The swells block my sunsets.
When I awoke, the night-watchman was sleeping beside me. He didn't get out of his car. He doesn't move as if he were dead. Sara's prescription scrapes my insides. I can see my body of the coast. I can swim until I can't anymore. Send money. Send a piece of flotsam. Send a raft.
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Virtue! Bless You Atlanta, Georgia
artist
from Yuma
in Atlanta
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