The hill of blooms
is a disaster, having
so recently lost its
battle with the hill
of dreams, and this
just on the heels of
enduring the scourge
of the desiccated riv-
ulets (the arcane sky
rolls its big orange
eyes, squeezing out
the slightest bit of
steam). The rest
of us, all of God’s
creatures, no
longer able to
slink onto the
set stealthily
enough to go
relatively un-
noticed by a
dwindling future
of gawking, needling
fans (and what an audience!) —
the prop mavens, having already
scoured our obscure, imploding
planet readying for this week’s
episode of How to Grow Hungry
and Die w/o Ever Taking a Breath,
each lie grasping for a state of semi-
consciousness just under the crust
of the knoll at the bottom of the
other side of this once wondrous
plateau, in a room called the
Cavern of Blue Dreams —
