encinitas, ca
the santa anna's are in- pushing hot air from the desert across our faces and sending it out to sea. in retort, waves are marching orderly in causing the coast to crowd with spectators and partakers. everyone called in "sick." no one is sick.
even the grass is waking up and bowing prostrate. green is starting to grow in our backyards, where there has been none, not since we've lived here. color in place of weeds and sand. Every november is different in the dessert. You throw buckets of water around and biospheres begin. november knows himself, yet not in the since that he knows the fullness of his essence. he's looking around to become something. he fancies spring.
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