This cricket is going to keep me up all night.

It’s bedtime, and I can’t get this fly to go to sleep.

Flies primarily sleep at night, even when kept in constant darkness.

You and the cheatgrass sway in the same winds.

On the patio listening to one bee, then another.

Sit, child. The night is hurling itself at the stars. Look up.

Not unpleasant: the gnat running around on my arm.

When I get to the Larry Gross section of my Twitter feed, it feels like finding a rich vein of silver in Southern Utah’s white sandstone.

Hey, terror. Short time no see.

People scare me.

This dreadful month turns every shoe into a sandal.

Every time I put on my sarong, I think “but it feels so right.”