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2 Save Yourself After I wander the morning in circles trying to find my way back to the old house where I left you lingering in the back halls feasting your eyes on more of the numinous, it’s the bête noire, the sacred cow I’m chasing into a blind alley where cornering her turns her around—and then I do the gnashing— I stand my ground—I have had it up to here— but instead of ripping her face off, I go straight out the door I open where her mouth is onto gorgeous springtime in a sparkling meadow abuzz with dragonflies, asplotch with shadows shaken from hawks risen out of their bodies. I never felt such happiness before this. ...

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