80 West demands a conscience,
abscess.
No reason why the sun pulls
out,
It’s objectively wrong to prefer the rain.
Hers is a highway mind,
unnecessary outlet
Malls to the stupefaction of
sound,
Watch the clouds pucker,
taper
In airwaves. These sunglasses
sepia
Everything. Where it was, it was.
No point to figure it out
now,
What we lost in Natomas,
chasing
Blame. The yellow bikes and
cutoffs
Still breathe in Seattle,
don’t mind a little
Cold. Keep rinsing out the
dye,
Forgive a little fade.
