The reenlivened stone panther turning to moss.
Her eyes shine.
Even the car’s breeze is
friendly on days like todays.
And, i cannot tell dust specks
from pollen from
cottonwood nor
seed from insect.
The sun stings.
Disaffected is not unaffected as much as dispassion does not necessarily
imply apathy.
Expelling exhalations
I pass through two gates.
My breath manages
to hit me in my
own stomach.
White fuzzies fill my peripheral.
A busy broad.
Little bobbing heads under water. Learning to feed the self.
Cue that cricket queue ready to play
With legs rolling over like car
engines.
The dragon grew a mohawk.
And, a man passes, reading the same piece of paper that I passed him
reading a week ago.
Sweet thing, don’t freeze in my prescence.
Why did the racoon cross the road?
I dunno either, but one sure did last night.
Right in front of me.
A dog panting on the trail
Makes me wonder:
How does that muzzled dog sweat?
Looking down whilst standing on a bridge over the salmon ladder,
You see
You can jump down from above
And into the sky above?
I heard you playing accompanied accordian in the parking lot down the trail.
He was playing real good for free.
I know because you could only tip him in
An unlabeled box.
Howl Maverick.
WrittenCasey 