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open
field
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filmmaker weeds strawberry fields
hear a flame red upright piano with its metronome ticking
push “play” on the remote
“relocate”
be teen surrogate traceing camps’ crackled mudflats
keep a gun to your head
a ballistic ghost will beg: “go home, you’re a mess”
hometown salt marsh
river running underground
no kimono safe downtown in 1942
the Salinas-to-Posten train ride
sagebush, sunstroke, dust storms, 123 degrees
8 dead
red wall, burning field
“zero miles from hell”
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circumscribed
with the very drawing stick the camera is
shutters|splices
fire pit + indigo bath
each and each are two open dots on a field
a paper thin relic: the whole dyeing stencil—the punch cut
the wrong rodeo: no trick riders
mothers sleep in a horse stall, pee in an open pit
where we now run bleachers: up down faster faster
human prodded as if hoof and hoof
lassoed here