Try. The laundromat is five blocks away. He hears whispers but the house has no walls and no lions. He makes a grocery list that starts with eggs and ends with detergent.

Here in my head, there is a sun. It’s so bright I can hardly see. I closed my eyes to make it set. Then I walked into a wall and it hurts.

“The I, that’s not me.”
“Then who is it?”
“Maybe it’s you.”
“It’s not me.”
“No.”
“And it’s not you?”
“I’ve been trying to explain.”
“There I go again. Me me me.”

He thought that pineapples grew on trees. She told him, no that’s money. And they went to the forest in search of dough. Only bakers make bread, said the deer dropping dew.

Is the. Recently collected. Finding a way home. Replacing each other. No solid ground. The play of. Gritty and graceful. Remaking information. Inside the body. The result is. Charm in many. More.

No good. Balancing on snow. Translate: violence begets eggshells floating down gutters. I heard you called last winter. I was out to sea. The evaporation of milk. Tracing the outlines of strangers.

A single thought of common words like ‘the’. With-out. Up-stairs. And how does that sentence run? I’m sorry if I don’t know why she cared. Use-less. I didn’t need the locksmith. Down-stairs.

One gets used to everything. Forget autumn comes in the fall. Whisper like a familiar city. Do your best to stay detached from shining things. One must speak of diamonds cutting reason.

Sanity knows olives can turn into oil. He writes a manifesto. Temporary means thinking. So, I will think no more! He pours oil on the paper and puts it into his mouth.

So I became a wretched freedom. They could have shot me. Identical divisions moved aside. Asides. Do you know what it’s like to love you? I am under the walls. Deserted. Afraid.