I’m reading outside with the hummingbirds. Would love to talk an adult about dumb things. Nostalgia, Americana, let’s time travel and time warp(the dance is cool too) and reminisce on places we only see in our dreams

Bare with me a moment things going nowhere

troubled waters, these dogs are howling in the distance and my dogs are howling just in front of me and everyone’s afraid of the earthquakes we’ve been getting but it can’t be that bad can it?

I was here in 94 and and saw the freeways collapsed and the balconies smashed and the apartments sinking into the ground.

California dreaming? I have the worst sleep. I take melatonin and I have the weirdest dreams. Always I’m in a bust station or a train station or moving though a casino like an ant on a sugar trail.

Drunk as drunk on turpentine.

But I found out Neruda is a piece of so maybe we don’t quote him tonight.

My dog stepped on a bee and somehow they both lived. Well obviously rhe dog but I managed to get the bee to a hummingbird feeder and he drank up and then flew off.

I’m afraid of those really blue nights I haven’t seen since I was sixteen coming home to an empty place and I’m outside waiting for that blue light to come but I don’t think it’s coming.

Who needs coasts when you’re perfectly adrift?

What’s your favorite scary movie?

I want to be an urban legend. I want to be haunted.

I want to live forever.

My job. I make people feel pretty. And I make things that; with care, can last forever.

Oh the lemon tree. The lemons are green still but so and when the pomegranates are out we’ll make pomegranate lemonade and listen to my favorite song; it’s called

Hopelessly dreamy rainy day vibes with new socks and soft sheets and soft windows and soft sunshine. Wake up to turn out the lights. My fears are soft and so are my knees. These dreams have had their fun with me.

I make art for a living. Dreamy sad moody nostalgic stuff for dreamy people with bad intentions.

I want to feel my heart drop through my stomach. I want to feel something good or bad and I want something to write about. Let me turn you into literature and bad paintings. Let’s take Polaroids and hide them in library books.

Collector of old books and Polaroid photos. Constant reader and dreamer. Following foxes down rabbit holes and making all the worst mistakes.

I want to believe in ghosts but I’ve never seen proof of one. Someone said your hearts as big as your fist.

It’s okay if you’re dead inside.

Let’s be zombies. All braindead and ruled by instinct.

I want to feel something. Tell me the sky is falling. Tell me the world is ending. Tell me something you can say today and never again.

Come in from the rain and trade your wet socks for something new.

I’ll read you old poems and tell you all about that time, The one you dream about

our dreams play games in convincing ways. Sometimes I dream that I’m trapped in a