I spent the night in Redmond, a respite from loud boats
and even louder jets (who have been doing a fly-by
every morning this week around 7am -- bastards!)
and the traffic of the hydroplane races, which take place
about a mile from my house and I'VE NEVER BEEN
TO SEE THEM. And damn proud of it. The Blue Angels
fly so low that I can read the numbers on their underbellies.
When they release their decorative plumes of smoke,
an oily residue descends and settles on my garden.