feb 26 a.m.

With a noodle around my neck tones of misnamed grape, I spiral..
down.
over.
through the sky's release-a tightness is back.
Jack.
The other day and green it is this day.
Blobs and dots. Swirls on fuzz. Oval elbows, I told him, I liked.
Never mind the morning rush:
Upon my tap he turned with haste. Surprised;reply, "Wow-you made my day."
Separate stairs we stomped, raced rather. He had nice elbows. He had to be told.

Green again. Leafy spinach on my lap. Morning richness. A smile from a stranger-a "good morning" and thanks to the driver-
I get it..
I pull my harpoon and my dirty red bandana...Joplin.

With tarp blue ruffles my spin becomes a dance..
now, I am spiraling up.

The richness is manifested from within.