i spy with my little eye something yellow

i am spiderman

and i know what's happening?

cereal

laughing at your
crunching
I can always
take time
to wipe milk
from your mouth
and waltz
in filtered sunlight
you are a harmony
and I am
only
erasing the words.

bizzaro world

cloud people

purposefully following false prophets

filtering friends through doors

we depend so much

on red wheelbarrows

to keep our feet off of the floor

we never notice the drivers,

the sun, or the shadows we make

we bathe in a wind that bastes us

and prepares us for it's plate.

fevered