I keep having dreams of murderers
and wake up with dim remembrance
of bodies ribboned with red
and my own anger.
Is it because incoherent arguments among the alcoholics
outside my window more frequently dissolve in fist fights?
At work I gaze across the peaceful harbor in Sausalito
territory staked out by hippies. "No frontier here anymore,"
says Tom. "Maybe it's in Oregon, or Vancouver."
I wonder about Judy, home from the hospital now
At Woodstock '94, Danica makes a deal with the guys from the
Apple tent. You can telnet from our machines to get your email
if you bring us coffee. "The difference is, in '69 you'd trade
acid for ponchos. Now it's caffeine for Net access," one of them
says.