Today is the last day
of October in Southern California—
Santa Ana winds threaten to wound
the hillside sunflowers with fire.
I am a river drained of its filaments.
I am dark water, an empty field.
Outside the logic of circumference,
my mind spirals towards the negative.
My voice is a flat surface wishing
it could be three dimensional,
a loud red. Really my mood
is a parabola. Some days
the world seems like an ellipse
but it’s more like the sky
is temporarily turbulent.