There’s something going on. I can feel it. As I carefully position the linked hearts floormats in my car. The floor is now hidden beneath a trail of pink hearts in the corner of a clean black fairway.
There’s something going on. I can feel it. As I squegee my windshield and f@ck it – my whole car. Too tired to locate a carwash. There’s a drought anyway. Call it ‘saving water’.
Palestine is burning. I’m saving water. But I would donate the entire Sierra Nevada snowpack to Palestine. What’s left of it.
The snow melt.
I’m trying to reach my friend Sunshine’s house in West Sacramento. There’s a protest blocking the street. They want to end police brutality. The bullhorn is leading the crowd in a cheer:
There’s something going on. Spreading like wildfire across the Internet. Your kids are dying to go see.
Some innocent black kid got murdered in Missouri, the Gateway to the West. Some guilty cop shot him six times. And twice in the head. Not all cops are bad news. But this one is.
I can feel it. Something going on. I’m driving on a bridge. High above Sacramento River. Water looks so yummy nice. Against the high noon valley summer drought. There’s a little house with a shingled roof being propelled slowly down the river. Not a houseboat. A house.
I can feel it. So lucky to live here in this peaceably violent land. USA. Individuals with guns will never be controlled. That’s why they got guns to begin with.
So lucky. My friend sunshine. Like a sister to me. She’s excited. She was given a large canvas, and now she’s quitting her job.
She’s gonna paint a woman with ribbons in her hair. Stitched into the canvas. Her daughter’s middle name is Anais.
The woman will have razor blades hanging from the ribbons hanging from her hair, and around her head a mandala.
Like a halo?
No, not a halo. More like an aura.
I can feel it.
I can already feel it.
It’s gonna be something great.
Something really great.