What Are We Doing Here
The mother does not believe the child it is 5 a.m. why would a lizard be in his room must have crawled from the pages of a book she’s a dropped key on a sidewalk also door that requires unlocking let her sleep let her but he’s not joking and she’s not joking wonder feels like a chore a stumbling toward what is indeed a salamander firetruck red oh my god black spots glossy among trains everything’s fine tick tock inside the carpeted homes of giants