|Sunbathing by Beth Hoeckel|
We genre-jack our biggest changers, smile-smacking the sweetest strangers and alienating the saddest maintainers. All shoot high for spectrum Hollywoods and disrespectful spectral nations built into the feet of feeding demons fondling fetal demons. Notated daydreams coming out full with sheen and expectation of sun and God and kitty. Woven width of operatic darkness, fertile in the tomorrow aspects and vacant for the million years. Who hasn't, having hoped, stopped thinking for peace and joined ranks with rage? Yet... Even the tsunamis, superbugs and all our dashing death-weighted giants are just reflection pools. We just wiggle our noses and laugh when the universe gathers details of doom at the doors of our sandcastles.