I will not scream, “Tuna!”
My mind walks north
into the sticks.
My planet is yet
habitable. Miracles
happen involving the speech
of animals. A man
is found wedged in a cocoon
of straw and ice.
He walks away unharmed.
A moose charges by
kicking up huge plumes
of snow. When I nap
I can hear my body
whimpering with no
prompting from my mind.
The body dreams
about shooting pool
in a cement cave
where salamanders
curl in suspended
animation
near a drain.