my teeth fly out in the wind like when I was young.  “michael’s first real day,” a soul rides
by.  who are all these sliding shapes?  how did I get here?  the bottom of a fish tank.  I must relearn to swim so I can get back with
the crows who sing the blues afro indian style. 
these toads are cheery it’s their new year wish.  they don’t know I’m dreaming them.  dragging my body along like dusk.  sleep walking this whole scene.  phhwish thru the fountain & back to the
clouds.  my shadow startles me – then I remember
it’s my guardian flicker teaching me to be invisible.  they’re just trying to live.  I’m just trying to dream.  to live up to their wishes for me & heed
their yearnings.  the water’s warm
here.  heavy as it is.  when I wake I pull the devil card – then put
it back to the bottom of the deck to hide the chained lovers.  “I was flying with a butterfly head trying to
climb a hill” in the night the coughing & crying kept me peeled with furry
moon drops infusing the street lamps with a dull electronic beat.  I laid with ice lungs before I had to put the
chains back on.  our bodies linked.  his fingers soft blooms .  my eyes burning lightly.  adjust to their orbits.  bloom thru my lips.  they’re watching softly from tree height as I
bring my bike out of kitchen.  they even
have lungs to speak when air is ice. 
they share their feathers with me as I follow threads thru slow freeze