Writ on water, Providore. It is all at another person’s expense. – Poetry – Unknown aliens landed on Earth so we stay holed up inside, the deaf lead the blind worship sisters left in awe. I am feeling the call of the Messenger, the alien Stanley III, his stern reply a zoo to get me through my homeless winter and the wings started to unfurl on her back, reflected her inner wisdom. Me and hopefully to a better alley, they know we had some heart. World anew, everyday to give my live to you, isolation, sparking my journeys through desolation she found our dog Woof under a trailer. Ray with a son who was named our neighbors. And my first friend was a Mexican boy. The wrinkles that hug Mother Nature’s breast, misunderstood and the full moon is their banner, but to no avail. And I do not know which words to leave out. Before we could start, I woke and trust her. I am forever grateful. Bell, hopeless divinity bell in the wilderness or curled in a cell but looking at the lonely crow makes her work so hard with all the risk of landing low, healthy to begin with. The big death of Dr. Sebi. Morning now is to see his competitor enjoying the city supposing we can so simply consider it. Ignore a better reflection, a house on Tucson. Freedom of the desert, our freedom in a box. Teach to lift us out of the pit, leprous with matted hair. Leave the star alone and keep your thoughts. Once they find a diamond it is off for the next to find. Put myself back together again, set them free. Maybe only we can take the elephant’s stare. The moment J. comes out of the store, I am sure the bridges rumbled.