I am looking for something. I am cooking up this idea inside my head. Here I am crouching in a meadow or an underpass Wearing a too-tight Mexican dress. Take the camera; take your shoes off Michael, put them on the rocks. You are grinning, artistic, you were wearing flip-flops. Here are the people watching, from high overhead. They are grinning they are laughing; oh god I am bright I am red. Oh hey, Michael come back. It’s the black dress, I was wrong, the two of us by the underpass. Oh! Look. Here it is. Shining and dark Tucked into the grass and the hard, hard dirt. I take it, I take it back with me; I carry boots and barefoot And pick up rocks. I am looking down; neither of us is wearing socks.