Pumping art to your brain.
And then Mori, in an eerie resemblance to the Virgin Mary falling down at the cross of Jesus, comes out of the bathroom, collapses on her knees to the floor and starts wailing. 

Radical whirlwinds retrieve
the whims of the people.

She reached to snatch away the divider just as he was heaving the pumpkin onto the conveyor belt, and it landed on the tips of her fingers.

Like an orange
Bring forth juice

His small feet found the grooves
In the cogs
Of the dilapidated wheels

I was real close to Edmonds, face to face, and I whispered in his ear, “Ay, you stupit fahkeen haole, ef you eva do dat chit again, I gon gif you wan tree koda slap so fahkeen hart, you gon fly ou da fron windo. Den I gon tell Ikaika to set on you. Den I gon call my fren, an he gon eech you like wan luau peeg. You undastan, brah?”

I told my mother minutes after it happened.  

Opening the door I,
I stumble.
It is reality.

Children now scream and giggle as they watch the rain drop into the puddles, creating rings that overlap. Soon they will stomp in the puddles, sending their own ripples that devour all others. The muck of the streets is swept away into the puddles and storm drains and carried out of sight. 

Like dappled down, her dress spins round
In unbroken shining softness.

I poke it with my stick once, thinking it’s a rock. I poke it again and I know it’s not, and I know why those geese were staring at me, and the stick is messy. And I run back across the island as fast as I can. And I never come back.

Spin faster
And faster.
The images blur.


And she smiled and he told her about how he skinned his knee when he was ten because it was the first thing that jumped into his mind and it seemed just about a million miles away from this and she asked him after he finished his story if he would mind driving her back to her place and he could come in if he wanted and he said he would and asked if she would mind if he sat on the bed for a bit because talking can tire a person out and then the talking was quieted as they pressed their lips together and laid on the bed and he closed his eyes and held her close to him to feel something close and to be happy about holding something living and warm and something that loved to be held and told that love was close and would not leave anytime soon and soon enough they both fell asleep under the covers and it was warm but comfortably so and in the morning when he woke up and saw her bathed in the filtered sunlight coming from the window, showing the frayed ends of her hair and the dust floating aimlessly in the air looking only for a place to land, he thought suddenly that this was the right light and she looked beautiful and he decided that he should tell her his name when she woke up and he laid back in the bed, draped his arm over her and felt her body move closer to his, without thinking, like an animal snuggling next to its mother for warmth.