WEBVTT

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Then I got back to
California, and woe betide.

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California Twilight, am I too
far away from the microphone

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if I do this?

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Because I'm much
more comfortable

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leaning back, something
to hold me up.

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Late evening July,
and no one at home.

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In the green
lungs of the willow,

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fly worms and lightning bugs,
blood spot the whips and wings.

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Blue asters become electric
against the hedge, what was it

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I had in mind?

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The last hurrah of a skateboard
dwindles down Oak Street Hill.

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Slowly a leaf unlocks
itself from a branch.

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Slowly the folded
hands of the dead

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flutter up from their caves.

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A little pinkish flame
is snuffed in my mouth.

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