her makeup
made a tiny mocha stain
on the inside lip
of my yellowed sink

as I drove home
and listened to the oldies
a man stumbled through crosswalks
under the old railroad
his shadow looked
noosed through the beams

the next day
I watched a squirrel eating
styrofoam like cotton candy

I wonder if we feel
how everything moves
around our heads

molasses and lightning
the surf and the coast

I don’t always feel drowned
I don’t always feel whole