A horseback ride along a winding road turns into a car crash.

An abandoned theatre in Coney Island filled with people, frozen in excitement, covered entirely in popcorn dust.

 A man hanging himself from a giant fir tree on the way up to Mount Hood. His body can be seen from the road. There are mementos piled around the trunk, around his body. Lots of shamrocks and American flags. I’m on a broken bicycle. There is snow under my tire.

I am meeting with a large publisher about a book I’ve finished. The publisher is also a butcher.

Six yellow faeries are driving a Porsche through a field of space flowers. It’s winter, but the ground looks parched.