sitting in my living room watching the Rose Bowl
Christmas tree cozy furniture plate and glass full
my usual view until the rooms substance fell away
revealing a desolate landscape under a muted sun
a few burned out trees soil finely crevassed
I was looking out at a pulp science fiction cover
this was as real as the scene I consider normal
and then that scene reappeared like nothing happened
but it was the sense of actuality, my easy acceptance
of the matter of fact of many worlds available
that really got me again