funny, now that you mention it...

finality of the situation threatens,
a constant looming.
something in the distance.
you call it the 'horizon line'
while i refer to it politely as
a blurring edge.

things which
we cannot bear to think of:
lapses in time,
gasping for breath,
floors which
stretch on for miles,
leading "up up and away."

california,

glued
to the bottom
of cups and

crusted

to the sides of

the flatware:

a cupboard full of
spots
which have not,
evidently,
been cleaned.

"priorities are constantly shifting," she said,

commenting on both

an affair & the state of the street

which rushed on below.

i proceeded to fall to my knees,

hands clasped and beginning to sweat:

"please, tell me something

i don't know."