in the rearview mirror, the african stands for a spotless bride. like we all stood in the upper hotel room -- he tells me about mayer and miley, a string globe of glittering premieres i'll cast him as the father. standing. on sunset passing over the street cutting through the mesas --- a beam of neon tangerine robbie on my right side the african nodding off for twenty minutes the rustle on my shoulder, the rustle of the tent | absolute value in the night sky. | look up! elk low. for the jewish new year we shiver in steel chairs dan sounds the horn with a wounded knee it's the little things, i tell tami, for wild tears, baal on the big screen we're ramping up, tell me you're coming back for me. flags like wings on a sunday night. you're coming back for me. robbie's eyes catch the light like always never far from home. and we stand.
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