And I found your kidneys in a shrouded booth filled with firearms and sea-shell bracelets. A man hovered and haggled the price of a knife, so I slipped the kidney jar into my jacket and ran through the streets, an entourage chasing and rattling rifles behind me. Thank you, dream, I said, when the buildings blurred into my living room, and, safe, I placed the jar on my mantel. How long have you had a mantel? a friend asked, noting the Victorian air of my living arrangements. What will you do? another inquired, concerned you might be bathing in ice, waiting for an endocrine return. We called your old numbers, sent parcel post notices, but nothing. The jar gathered dust and gleamed in the glancing sunlight. With no response and too many dinner guests unnerved by the fleshy parenthesis, we invited a minister and held a ceremony: I placed the jar in a shoebox in a divot in the backyard. We gathered, shared wine and stories. The hole was filled. Many held back tears and had to return home. Then the sky blurred with another time-moving transition, but I was still in the backyard. Dammit, I thought, as a hand pushed through the top-soil. I grabbed the thin wrist, pulled the body up, and watched you shake silt from your hair. Another stunning entrance, I said, and poured you a drink. You sipped your mimosa and spoke of mitosis. I placed a hand on the small of your back as, above us, two planes scarred the sky.

and still we wondered why the bodies
of birds fell around us. It’s an omen,
you said, and soon dust stirred

in the streets like a Western. Horses
walked into the vanishing point
and music swelled while the sun

tucked itself into hills. A lasso
appeared in my hands, and, unsure,
I threw the loop through the night.

The audience erupted, and, odd,
you said, I hadn’t noticed them before,
but there they were, the bleachers

bustling and full. The director declared
the evening a wrap and the crew
formed a caravan of Civics, unwound

into Interstate. If I had known my lines
were scripted, you said, I would’ve
improvised more. Or maybe asked

for an encore. At least this explains
the windows, I said. Another bird kissed
the ground. The stars were color bars.