si

there are hands bled blue velvet ribbons draping the floors

i am preparing for a long trip. i am preparing for the dining whip.
I will be driving across the country to move back home, east. To help my kinfolk. To head the call of the wind to dream alone in spin-time by the Delaware river where George W. truly started a large gang called a country.
an open wound.
the plan: is to travel a vast distance to dig the roots out. plant some seeds. sew up old dolls.


every day i dream this dream in my head i dream of death as rebirth .. that's all.
little lucy said it was self-delusion. i only know it as a non-sequitor. its pieces non-connective.
did you hear the wall open its mouth and move breath?
ahoooo it said crevice full of traffic


si pusiera ser... nada.