So, sure.
I am slid along the conveyer
(shimmeringpinkpurpleshine)          
to years ago, sitting on top of a
neat pile of shingles behind our trailer
and a neighbor smiles at me over the
other side of the fence. I think
about watching the land before time.


Just now,
If he saw my collarbone we'd fall in love,
and I don't want that
any more than I want a sunburn.


And later, we know how sunsets crumble. Like, I have my days, and oops, ****** everything up. Sunset crumbles burnt toast, crumbles old plaster. Look, the sky is falling, look, I'm such-and-such, a slur on a crumbling wall - well, hula hoop. Swell, train robber. Set it all on a mountain somewhere and we can go to bed.