14 April 2026
Rosy day
My feet went surfing and found a dream beer, a beer that juices the mouth and suns the gut, that kicks history into a wide blue sky and combs the skin.
I brought this news to my love room where I could hold it in private. I warped it and praised it and gave it long names then plucked its dead minutes and ground them into a clean face,
which I wrapped in wax paper and left on the stoop jutting out from the house where my good friend used to live