like a moon those mood swings

predictable, timeable. i marked
the calendar but erased
it from my mind.

  found a unicorn
horn in the sea filled with sand
and filigree of virgin, color of a sturgeon
unbelievably improbable, like meeting
this way, cometting the yucatan.

all kinds of shit to do.
ramping up to  the high
bridge of  i 375
 into  downtown
 fly off  into the half
moon siting over st pete's skyline.

nestling in the quiet
while the sun's out
 on this side of the pond
sleeping in the daytime
gearing  for the wane.

sliver in a slither, snort the quick of lime
i'll be changing quickly in a short time.