High Plains Grifter
And the horse the breeze rode in on. Beards of artichokes are shaved, it’s that simple. Pandemonium
with sand stuck in its crop.
In the event of an emergency, look up. Aerials aim a defense towards incoming white
noise, a burst of stars
and the cream it displaces in a cup of tea. Thank heaven for the heavens, without, there is merely
ground.
_______________
Philip Kobylarz