I.
The sunscreen smell leaking out of the burning creases of
the eye
As the blue of the sky bleeds and bleeds and bleeds as if it
can’t be murdered
The wet multicolored grass just mown in the morning soft
bunnies under the new sneaker that smells like new paint
And the way the green blades stick like ingenuous smiles to
the rubber
The pink winter sky
A silent blanket heavy and cold
And keeps the legs and thoughts close
II.
The mind is a technology
To which I am addicted to its imposing voice
And its not that I am against doing with the mind
It’s just that I cannot do with out it
And like any machine it gets confused
III.
The mind is a camera
And the world is the world
IV.
The short walk to the car during winter
All the houses on the street smell like fire
The hands are warm and the face is cold
And the leather seats are perked inside the car.