beware of falling rocks
-Reconstructed Fables Mix
Things blow into my yard. Newspaper circulars. Scratched tickets. Christmas wrapping paper, nametags still attached. Analog strips, warped from overplay, too much rewinding. A passing window gives me five seconds of my old favorite song, 10 dBs of Parthenon reverb, all knobs set to infinite decay, and it’s my favorite again, it’s my favorite again for the next three days. Days are made of songs that blow through me, songs are made of days that only get to come once.




Daniel Hales

blind drive

prose poetry for the people