dereality, new studio, the cat licked my arm before i clicked Publish and so it was fine to flop

layers of things   stripped bare   will start the faux memoir in July  esp. now that Anna has given me the word   depersonalization to name the thing that frightens me most besides the death of everyone and myself     and is most a part of being me/fiction      will also write about jellyfish houses and say the ram      have laid quietly on the couch in the new studio with the cat nursing on the blanket that covers me      who knew sinus infections could remove you from the world so thoroughly     having not been able to smell or taste in 3 weeks increasing the dereality      return to work to calls from youngish men's families, catastrophic strokes--I fail as a peer counselor for people with cognitive impairment, how to step into it and offer/collaborate with honesty, in this reality      mirrored closet doors in new grass green bed nook      sun through east-facing window trailing eucalypti dust from the hills bursts across living room and shines off glass into bed     a silver-white sky-sea      impersonal condos on beaches suffused      plain beige walls also hold the energy of skins     have not seen any Berkles pigeons yet which makes me sad so I'll post some Mission pidgesters having a quiche on 16th Street    and this dish on my roof deck like something very Floridicana      now that all the work is done to get me moved and the puking from antibiotics in the IKEA parking lot (grandmother holding plastic bag to my face like she did when she picked me up from college reunion in February) I just want mom and grandmother to come back, to go to the municipal rose garden, to eat pastries and look out windows.

 also, what happened in the upside-down was the second installment of the :working class reading series, this one a celebration fo the life of akilah oliver with lou flroez, jai arun ravine and selah saterstrom.