maybe laundry

1. i want to put samples of
your handwriting
on a timeline lay
them next to each other
to watch the progress

2. small stuffed animal dog
whose purpose is sometimes
to hold down a piece of paper
that reads welcome home
under its front paw

3. when given the choice
between biscuit
croissant
or toast
i opt for the croissant

4. small spill of soymilk pooling around
hot sauce
sugar packets
strawberry jam
on yellow formica tabletop
instead of a rag, our server brings
an inch-tall pile of napkins

5. corinne and i stopped on
alberta street overpass
waving to southbound
traffic below
in response:
a peace sign
horn honks
devil horns
and waves coming back at
60some miles per hour
35 years old and this trick still
makes me smile

6. hand-laid mosaic
laura’s kitchen floor
marine blue
maroon red
saturated yellows
mismatched edges
the time it took to set each piece
if only i could take transfusions of this
with me
so that i might survive
the 50year old modern architecture of death

7. do you feel good about yourself now?!
woman in new season’s parking lot yells through her
sedan window
after we slipped into the parking space
she sat waiting for

8. sweat gathering
around light green tshirt collar while
fingers grip teal mat

9. it is in the still moments
heart knocking ribs apart
that we reinhabit
this skin
blood
bone
machine

10. how the wind kicked up after
we pushed ourselves out the studio door
spirits hijacking air

11. as a member of the ordinary saturday club
i will engage in ordinary saturday things
including
sleeping in
late breakfast
food shopping at whatever store is open
maybe laundry

12. two yoga classes
one acupuncture session
one counseling session
not bad for four days back in pdx
(on the horizon:
old-growth forest hike
plus potluck and fire)