In the realm of my hammock
-swinging
-silenced
the summer’s night sky swallows all life
that exists no further than me
As cricket gossip is suddenly understood
And fireflies grow in size
And dance in sync
To the rhythmic baseline of the full moon

As I finally pause to question the situation
And suave paintings become images
And the moon just wont stop laughing
The gentle wind is ridiculous
In its manner submissive to the sky
In the realm of my hammock I open my eyes


POP! POP!
Green-blue cracks split my vision
And percussion of the stars
deafens
I’m lost in space but reassured in time
Those paintings
Those true paintings
Must be drawn in my notebook.