Some of it was everywhere.
Vines bedraggled trees, dry creeks, rice fields of mud and water white geese and mallards at sunset. Their heads underwater.
Dave spun the iron rod and inserted it in the orange glow attached to our National Debt.
Hannah coughed into her elbow as if speaking to unforgetting in American Deserts.
Sophie went to Bishop trailing a great shadow in cottonwood filigree across the Eastern Slope.
Marcus paced slim and attentive to a dapper pyramid of teleological frisson emitting gleams.
Sara and Citlali walked over to the corner bar where the owner recognized their paperwork.
Olympia tended a fire of lemon scones and granola earthwork going back to the Civil War.
Emmy oscillated between going to meetings of the Kale Network beyond flaming pink sunsets.
Caius Bill wore a black dog named Snipes that had tiny eyes on one side of his large head.
Only a cracked ice puddle in front of the Taco Loco “restaurant” the sidewalk looked.
I recognized the startled look white people gave as the coffee breakfast Apartheid Imagination.
Larry glinted ruefully in the garnet cape of Old English Lettering perhaps Middle German Prog Rock.
Asher moved right along there, moved right along there, almost age 21 minors not allowed.
From the Toyota Citlali shot sunset hill rays and billboards: “Meet your new breast friend.”