I am horse-heart drunk on Wild Turkey the promise of sugar peas and striped radishes with one clichéd red rosebud I strung the plastic clothesline in my forest grabbed the clips for chips clips off the kitchen counter as I don’t have chips but I do have underwear and sheets to dry in the sun this morning a landscape frenzy cleared off my dresser emptied my dresser drawers my bedside table put heavy blankets away exposed my sea quilt with floating jellyfish put my laundry away painted my toenails whore red put escaped books back on their shelves scrubbed the bathroom lit a candle I’m preparing for a guest a gold visitor a breathless graduation an infant a church inside a church underneath the freeway I prepare for the end of the world wedding banquet where Jesus is the Bride and Bridegroom at the Church of ME. I prepare my wedding bed. I prepare the meal I bake giant peanut butter cookies to crack surrender and share. There is some serious shaking going on under the apocalypse train finally rumbling up the track and I shovel coal even my hair waves out from my scalp electric and soft and thick. Weird excitement. Fear. I can smell the lowest tide of the year when I step outside. Divination with pea tendrils and fiddlehead ferns.