Egg
I keep seeing dead rodents and birds in the neighborhood and wonder each time about their cause of death because I do not remember seeing so many of them before but was that because it was not happening or because I was not able to see it.
After ceremonially sobbing for an hour in the middle of the night, I drifted into a visualization that put me back to sleep. Triangular bursts of white light with an occasional blue, and circular discs breaking the plane of the universe as if I were an early research satellite in space observing the universe, switching out lenses. I also pictured myself holding a yellow wool felt folded up like artisanal tamago sushi, standing by a used furniture store. Under the influence of nothing (unless you count a couple margaritas over dinner), I had a trippy reflection of grief cascading with love. It looks like a sleeping jellyfish. In college I would doodle squares all over my notebooks and lately I’ve been doodling circles. That’s how I like to think of the relationship between my constantly reorienting psychic north. In there, you are an egg.
