Like a cloud maker
in the morning i looked out the window
the steam rising from the light
between paths
240 garfield
i'm holding a small video camera
in winter
mist off the silver roof across the way
a daily meditation into air
below the hazy buildings
43 juniper
i'm sitting in the kitchen, its square this time
there's a drawing of a deconstructed robot above the ikea table
between 2 pieces of glass and a silver nail
the sunlight in the window
small colored glass flowers hung from fishing line
sending color across the floor
silver landscape out the window
dreamt
i'm walking down the alley
in the middle of the street
almost home
a small diorama
in distress
pressurized
driving around the estuary
a tour, every 10 minutes
pull over on the shoulder
press record
the silhouettes of people having sex in a window. one of those buildings downtown with floor and ceiling windows. i can't recall if i dreamed it or i saw it once walking home or it was told as a story at a party
the steam is still rising from the rooftop
flattened out by the wind
its actually a school
in the mornings kids are running around
just over the backyard
its strange, all this happening so nearby
the steam feels so slow from the kitchen
Fourth version of the poem i wrote during the Special Fish writing room (https://special.fish/writing-room) held on February 2, 2025 from 11 AM - 12 PM.