By Carl Adamshick
My dream lives close to my lungs.
Sometimes I feel it as a pen
spilling ink in the dark purse
of my breathing. My body
lives here in Colorado,
in an apartment with a few plants.
I am what the experts refer to
as history, a small totality
making its way to the future.
In the evening, I inherit death
as an idea, as a subject I’ll be tested on.
Mid-afternoons, I take long walks.
I live by myself as the state lives
by itself in borders it had nothing
to do with. I, too, have a river.
If you ask, I’ll tell you all about the light.
My Tuesday was pretty low key. I got some work done, I did a couple of laundries, I met friends for Kyogre raids (it took several tries and help catching but I finally have one). We were warned repeatedly of snow on Wednesday, though the total expected has shrunk from about two inches to a dusting, so I made sure we had toilet paper, too.
We watched The Flash, where I had no trouble believing in Nuclear Man but the courtroom stuff was too nonsensical to tolerate, then the premiere of Black Lightning, which was pretty great from the acting to cinematography to music. Here are some photos of Great Falls and the canal last weekend with Adam, who started at NASA today!