Leave room for expansion.
The dream chips back into r
a
n
dom
e
mory
at the oddest moments.
This is what I've been wanting to tell
you all about:
The heavy rain showed no signs of weakening
its assault.
Since the Ceiling of the Sky was torn open,
ten years hence.
The old avenue in front of the Franciscans,
cars won't stop.
The earth had fallen apart, the sea reclaimed
its former station.
Those two gypsy children pointed half of
the way.
Slippery rubber and oily morass, twisted
metal carnage.
The refuse of technology was a silent,
floating graveyard.
I finally caught up with the assassin.
He was fish as fish were once fluid motion
in their element.
The tumble of the offshore village, huts
on stilts, the salty air.
I had him in a grip that would survive
the next Annihilation.
How do you drown a blind man who can breathe
water? |