Santa Barbara, California

There is something brilliant
in the way the dust unfurls, 
in the way your hair moves
on weekends. For fourteen
days the sun has risen neon,
fire coming for all of us. My
go bag is packed. I’ve been
waiting. You can only shake
hands with fear so many
times before you realize
the game is loaded: I have
always lost. And whether it’s
my home now or my wisdom
later, life demands the release
of all that I cherish, beautifully
and unmercifully. So embrace
the taste of ash on tongue.
Load the trunk. I am ready
for it, I think. I am ready for it.