New legs where my bike tires used to be and a spinning swirling wash machine head asking me if I desire to become horizontal any time soon with the gymnasium floor beneath me. The cool multi purpose lines criss cross where my mind wants a rest until it dissolves back into the elementary carpeted gym/talent show auditorium where bored parents shuffle through hours of ill prepared performance done by small versions of people who have illegible dreams and cannot write in cursive. That is fifth grade when the sex talk happens and the eyes widen in terror or falsified foreknowledge.
Now I sit on the carpet confused wondering where my life went and why I don't have any strong desires to do anything in particular whatsoever. In a few days I will be in Europe feeling intelligent and jet lagged yet properly undeserving and a family mess of differences wrung out like a dirty old dish rag until fills up a vacuity where the universe once hid an amber lit head in the fuzz flower pedal dawn and the animals dance in tribal dances out on the lawn before there were lawns and I wonder what the harbor was like before the developers came and tore apart the landscape and thought not of the seals in the salt fresh breath air, the hum of waves rustling those dinosaur feathers until peeved enough to take flight head first into evolution where a bible rests laughing and rearing a head away from those traditions or the sky blue pipelines into the future where sauerkraut and pinot grig waits under a red and white striped awning or the cemetery walls of a casket, a deliberate confusion of sparks when mixed up in the same oak aged barrel with notes of hickory chestnut, of daffodils or other Pacific northwest foliage buried under ground. All of the species kept hidden from site.
