ant5

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behind me in line

a woman murmurs

into her phone

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the clouds open

we make

light toast

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a kind of sand

left in the bottom

of the water bowl

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around the shade tree

goats stacked up

on each other

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heat wave

ghost towns

in its wake

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distorted

through the soap bottlle

the spider’s still big

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3am

cricket

inside

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we see the brass

screws we knocked

over in the dark

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it’s either

going to be

dust or clouds

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the squirrel

one step ahead

of us all

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