by Joanna Penn Cooper and Todd Colby
The way I know reality is conditional is by looking
out the window at the mobile homes parked
under the palm trees. What would it mean to really
be mobile? To really have a home? These things
are up on blocks. That's the condition of being
anonymous amid the revelations of doom.
It's chilly but comfortable, the way I love you
as much as anybody loves another human being,
if one can call a human such a thing as a being.