looking out at the desert........................ I laid the green chilis from the can
smooth pieces of sculpture........................... side by side on the bottom of the dishwasher fresh pyrex pan.
Their potent juice was immediately apparent
white bandages....................in the place where my finger was cut.
woodpeckers......................
the sound of water.........Owen was still talking about his recent work.
cold pineapple juice................................
I imagined the chilis sliding down his throat slowly
cold water....................burning, burning, burning
brown grass on the hills...on the way to his stomach.
a flowered dress.............. a glass of beer................. the red mountains............................... low flying planes............. the smell of green grass.... warm stones by the river......................... a red front door................ under the eves of the porch........................ a beehive fireplace............................ the smell of the leather couch.................... as good as I ever made them....................... I could almost feel his hands..................... but there was no warm milk.......... hand carved napkin rings......................... sopapillas...................... mustard colored tiles............... the sound that the lizards made.............. come on across to the Internet..............................

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