In the incredible place beyond the stars and requiem, furtive tho grey edge of a sunset dodge, even include a starburst of red light like something telling. Layers of life explain layers of time, until a town becomes a central theme, like snow melt. Longer than a sentence and with dire vowels to sound, speaking of a place where the water runs, the wind runs, and cooing mourning doves run, these patches of effort become towns with days. Everything displaces the next minute, then protocol reverses the trend. We are nations in the morning trying to explain the bent seasonal smell of these dead leave. Even Dick Cheney is a god unto himself. Introduce yourself to the blanket of your town.