Plant placebos in the bathmat. Ergot in your pocket. Ease up shelf and O Dan! Flee please. You’re an anagram—in one way or another. Watch the sky for drones, dinosaurs. Wear a tiny hat; you’ve a large head. Go—at least once—on the lamb. That’s not the word you meant. How would you know? I’m speaking. You are indecipherable among the weeds. Pull trees. The ground spits out animals; all is a-fucking tumbling. I don’t wish to argue with you. Give me a light.
Steven Rineer currently works in construction. He attended San Francisco State for his bachelor’s in English and Loyola Marymount for his master’s in Literature. Steven twice attended the John Ashbery home school. He currently resides in Southern California with his wife, Allegra. He is working on a book of stories and a book of poems.