A spectral kid named Swanly, delivered shivery Delta banjo licks
with mad love. Eyes rolled back, to the whites of Barry Hannah.
In the irreducible jet stream, fighter pilots whistle "Born on the
Bayou." Cryogenic curly cues spell a sonic boom: Barry Hannah.
Those tiparillo-smoking slot machine catfish, made a riverboat tilt
whiskers and silver, - - - when they all lined up, for Barry Hannah.
Some hummingbirds absconded with a Missoula log cabin, mid-
February, "This ain't your Dot, not anymore," said Barry Hannah.
Dark night in North Vancouver Detox; with a shaky penlight
I got awfully high on four lonesome stories, by Barry Hannah.
A bevy of hippie glow sticks. So anti-Star wars. Yet, a Pensacola
Rainbow Gathering : lime, dervish, penumbra, cerise ... Hannah.
Eighteen-toed eager alien bonfire, in an Antares arroyo, they sighed
over a sleek meta-parchment, the only, brought back : One - Line
Epitaph for Barry Hannah.