Luminescent crab apples. Porcupines glaring over their shoulders at traffic. At the top of Christian Hollow, a mother bear nurses a cub whose hind leg is broken, urging him into the ferns. In other words, love.
There is no God up there looking down and judging but still, be careful what you say. I might have said, urged him into hedges. A dream of historians swimming and flirting, exploiting a shared history. Carrots boiled in orange juice and "salted" with brown sugar.
Love the other words! There is no time like the present. We are the ones we are waiting for. In other words, these words.
God is like any other addiction, as is self-improvement. Why not call the Big Dipper the Baby Carriage? A windy evening in which the toy castle toppled, the one nobody played in anyway. Shall we exercise the dim prerogatives?
Carting the celestial Christ hither and yon. What we accepted in lieu of. It was headlights of passing cars made them glow a way I never forgot. The whole point of the exercise is memory, isn't it?
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