dream

In the marketplace we stall keeper sleep with eachother for want of a bed and someone to talk to

in a bag that once held arrows a man has put the black dog
rescued
its tongue dryly flipping around the device holding its jaw in place its eyes gluey with blood

the rituals are everywhere and constant we wait for arrivals i pass a fallen birch branch in the waiting arbor and i right it

spider webs are floor to ceiling now
some by the pay phones
we have integrated the possibility of being bitten into every second
we have read about the more dangerous ones
i only kill the red and black ones when they are on my clothes
i like the red juice then
and the sure feeling of the absence of being bitten

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