Night buildings and towers in clouds, seeming like skinny black legs wrapped in Christmas lights, red clay and lake water, standing still, playing a game. I look to them; I don’t know what the rain means.
Hives break out on the back of my neck, look in the mirror and think: lucky my collar covers them. Thinking about a monster, a grinning lamplit robot made out of star parts, bigger than a whole continent, spinning in a goldfish bowl, some hero put him there, meteors ground into the back of its [...]
By the Chic-fil-a, an old woman has her black dress pulled tight around her legs by a dusk wind, the ink cat protector ghost, I’m hunting around for my bank card, it happens through my windshield. Here comes her husband in his brown suit, pushing around a walker, looking like an inventor with ink spots [...]