8:00 A.M.

Woke up at 4. 5. And 7. Had a shower. Bothered by a rash. Set the coffee. Timer. Left a kiss on her forehead. Took out the trash.

Sunlight a snake. Crawling over the roofs. My tongue. Across paradise. There’s something going on. In the parking lot. Near the red Toyota. Two shadows are now one.

Traffic chaos. Like Ann Coulter. Kids are screaming in the back seat. The radio gives you the impression. That no one is being tortured. By the heat.

Trucks lined up on the Ambassador Bridge. Waiting for inspection. I feel like jumping. Into a different life. Somewhere where Irene still thinks about me. And our dreams haven’t gone to seed. Sometimes God seems like a boring notion.

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