the
four
o'clock
floor angles
grotesquely shambles
tangos my cthulhu dream swell
dogs scream against the south sky farting crimson balloons
blue men bang and yell our sleep—frazzle our focus as we grab snapshots of sasha and
long vanished babies whose coos echo against tall pines
that shade we loved once so fiercely
smoke smeared traffic sucks
we become
news we
once
watched