Saturday, March 2, 2013

The side of the highway is burning.

The only thing I've consistently relied on is that the ground is stable enough to support me. In California, the ground shakes the bed shakes the apartment moves MOVES because the earth is unsteady is unsure is unable to commit to stillness.

In Colorado at least 7 people I love have died. In California, hills catch on fire because it is 84 degrees in February. In California there is nothing I can consistently rely on how does this not equate to the end of something how have I not shaken so hard I've slipped my way down through a firey hole in the ground. How am I supposed to go to Boston in four days and look anyone in the face without seeing a burning shivering earth through which the people I love are slipping like marbles through gutters away to a place that doesn't exist.

Every day until now has only made me more angry. All the whiskeyyogalove in the world. And nothing but a hillside burning, a bed shaking me awake at 5:30am.

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