running from yesterland,
just me, the squirrels,
and my tummy ache.
boutta "have you seen Dune yet?"
my way under someone.
feels like Spring for some reason,
and I am in Union Square
in my mind,
so Siri play "Face Down in the Gutter of Your Love."
nothing and nobody exists in this world
whose very being does not presuppose a spectator.