She purchases tons of sand,

delivered in the morning

by huge trucks

I scribble words

and save up

for a new Apple computer,

readied according to my specifications

- and stay home with the kittens

She thinks of dung, heavy vehicles & hay

I think of intellectual survival & death

She sees the rain opening streams in the gravel

down the birch alley

I sit at night with the moon,

pondering the geometry of carbon road bikes

She goes to work in the morning;

I remain in the Great Ship of Dreams