Exit Culver, Left on O’Hara

I woke up

dreaming

of water.

Fingerling

pebbles on

the shore.

Light roast

is out at

Conserv-

atory. No

buzz on

the street.

We could

jump on

the HOV.

Cruise

around col-

lisions.

What’s

your mor-

ning rush?

Artificial

as depth

is to dust.

Just to

fall asleep.

Redis-

cover

something,

like fire.