[poetic landscape section]
Bibliomancy Stone dunes petrified mid-gust are a palm you cannot read; the dying lake defies your crying eyes. You are the daring-glass and the lark bedazzled. Phrenology of the redrock reveals a dreamer, anticipation his exquisite pain; perhaps a defender of lost causes. The cards say head west. You head west, where you dream jellyfish bloom like dinner plates while seals scarify their hides in inscrutable patterns. Black cormorants shit their white stink into the sea, where it swirls like the lees in your wineglass. On the bluffs, you’re wondering what your body would write on the rocks below when you meet a stranger. Here the trail goes cold. After endless spreads, you both decide the cards have aligned against you. Even lesser divinations of mice, laughter, swinging wedding ring, tell you nothing. You drive east, then north and no sooner, a sparrow hits the windshield, a special providence proclaims you’re getting warm. The air worries with heat. Where lightning strikes
Reading your hot entrails, we know how, o how, your heart reeks of him. — Heidi Czerwiec 36
photo by Shawna Widdel
auspiciously, you find what you seek, and your chest erupts with love.
