A little joke

 - There are no clouds on the horizon

 - ....er.... that's not the horizon.

My friend Dave Larson re-enters the picture

After ignoring my phone calls for several months, for whatever reason, an old friend decided to get in touch again. He added to his previous poem (see here):

SEARCHING FOR ARROWHEADS IN NEVADA WITH PETER WAKSMAN

The breath of the ancient ones did flow

Carried by westerly winds to the soul

Treading lightly on their hallowed ground

Through light and silence, there was no sound

Searching for signs of their time on earth

Carefully sifting through stones, desert hearth

Looking to find simple marks of their time

Migrating across this timeless sublime

The ancient ones can fill your soul

With dreams and visions that take their toll

Eyes to the ground but look up ahead

A stone circle gathering place we are lead

We can sense and feel their feet at the fire

As they rested, and ate, smoke rings rising higher

To see their lives and works turned to dirt

Opens the window of death... and it hurt 

I was hungry so I painted the garage

The title "I was hungry, so I painted the garage" was an example of a non-sequitur that can be resolved with an intermediary narrative. For example, 

I was hungry and walking into town. I saw a woman working in the yard of a house and she said she would give me a meal if I painted the garage. I was hungry, so I painted the garage.

The point of this story is that the phrase "I was happy, so I patted the dog" works without an invented narrative, because we all know that passion evokes action. 

To explain "I was hungry so I went to the kitchen" is a little more work.

Flowery language

 You could cut the tension with a fork.

Sunset across Gardiner Rd