A salty afternoon,
gone to seed, well blended drinks,
running all over again.

Recursive,
like danger fish and larry or FISH,
we pare down the yellowed flesh on our palms with razor blades,
snow flakes and cuticles,
somethings are better left uncounted.

Another Day,
Anchorage creeps up on me like kitten kisses,
raspy and unreliable.
Exercise and domestic bliss.
Remember drinking jack daniels in the shadow of the coming nuclear apocalypse with Ahmed?

—–
dry meat for breakfast,
coffee and oatmeal forgotten,
just another morning.
—–
even hiku can be bland and informative,
the opposite of all night phone calls
and Kali in a perfumed candle bag.

Long run in the afternoon,
sore hamstrings,
and an exciting evening.

My instincts and the goggles, ze do nothzing.

They might as well have called it “The Talented Mr Ripley II”

What a great movie.

Also, I so called it.

Would it be a better world if there was a currency for my heart?
Nickels and dimes stamped out in platelets,
fifty dollar heart valves or arteries,
watermarked from the finest banks,
savings and loans for rings exchanged and parents met over dinner.

For an atm of silent kisses stolen in the nooks and crannies at the ballet,
a fast cash button which reads “flushed from inappropriate moments in public places”
and a deposit envelope for walking hand in hand, under sea, over moon, and beach.
–
It is just a down payment.

Well… I for one… Etc etc.

Well really the above is all about developing reflexes and also probably took upwards of a thousand man hours, but is still amazing.

Fire in the sky, all signs point downward.