Hairy Stream

You could hike over it, the you without a problem, its mountain viewed from the closet coats are found in, your constant Yes/No a hee-haw, a mule alert that’s pasture-perfect, a coronary at the last corner. Nobody’s framing you for the chintz- covered wall to cover the leak. Besides, you like leaks, you’re inside the view as if hibernating or crazy, you try not to erupt. Hypothesize the rest, the languor and freshet, the crags, the serrated parade. So — heights? What about the hairy stream, the pushed-up bushes saying Pet me? You got a problem with that? Cascade is what you call it a voice off the hanger, the blouse cast in a corner or animate.