Turning paper in triumphant.
Bird droppings on stone bench.
Bricken sidewalk undulations.
II. The Treetops and The Blue Sky
Look at how the treetops rage. Something
that I could not contain rips through
them! I saw blue skies in those treetops,
I saw blue sky.
Thank you, don’t mind if I do.
Gee, it seems like it’s been hours
since last I spoke, and do you have the time?
Ring. Ring. Ring.
I smell potatoes. The breakfast
room is right across the hall. Through
three sets of French doors, someone
outside smokes a gasper…