drop left and take the corner back; sea spent beneath the boardwalk, bent and lost amid the canyon’s breath and hurdling through the air. there is something regarding a sized up mess
of curfews clean and casually wrecked upon the drifiting; less a portion of a pilfered dress than a lunatic you judged and left behind the curvatures of man; behind a washed-up lover’s land; behind a curtain cut and hemmed; behind convenience stores. it’s something well worth looking up when you know it’s there for more to take upon or to drift along, humming. and only when the laughter dies and only when the seasons cry and only when the living seems to shrivel up or lie around a town which only winks at your demands all left inside doors closed and rooms you cannot man alone, trimming christmas trees with trinkets; a gingerbread man…

you could drive behind a river but where’s the other side?