sunrise matinee

— — — — — — O — — — — — —

6 AM atoms scatter, pixelating an azure veil
across mammalian shadows under an amber slumber.
slight rustling like canines digging through
past discarded memories, belly exposed

ever ready for what can only be described as
a tummy rub for the ages, in dog years.
in dogged hours, bag filled eyes of the evening
warriors witness the scattering commence. yoga

mats unfurl in red carpet fashion to send
aromatic salutations to a star gorging on
nuclear fusion, not unlike the bucktoothed beggar, who has
nothing but the hydrogen molecules in the air, and

croissants turned rocks, and spit back chow mein
to fill their stomachs, partly exposed.
they too, witness the pixelation of the sky,
fancy turn-dial guiding luminescence, fade on/fade in

yellow palms pressed together to squeeze a black hole back
into nothingness, maiden hands wrapped in a rosary
as emerald elegant as Snoop’s belt buckle. or is it
sandalwood beads blessed by a con artist monk

praying that monsters dressed in light blue tinge,
terrorizing iron bodies with chalk tipped spear at the
ready to slap cursed talismans onto unsuspecting wind-
shields, already shaking their judgeful heads at

pleading sons, whose three meals consist of monikered un-
lucky charms, rainbow roll ups inducing strawberry field hints
and ganja burn, leftover paper the length of a longed horizon
dreamt on the edge of a 2nd floor window in Bannam.

Good Morning SF. a concrete conqueror in camo kimono with
hangover hair-tie, queues a garbage truck harmonic.

a poem by YUN
artwork by TCBfergie