this just in on the undercurrent:
a few days ago:
more than 170,000 students boycotting classes in quebec
and 250,000 people taking to the streets
you wanna know what happens when you hike tuition $1625?
raising of voices
another spring breaking through earth


tugging out tallgrass around five foot sunflowers
wrestle and mulch with bent back
til sunshouldered and sweat-stached
signs of growth
plus hummingbird visitation
(wingbeat whir
perched on clothesline a foot above)
is all the afternoon needs to be made of
(something like a popsicle stick bridge
or toothpick structure
minimal materials make mighty possibilities)


one hour into the phone conversation
i am orbitting far
from great lake places
imagining my handwriting
on seed packets in a blue crate
organzied by flowers
mystified at the wonder/power
of progressions
how timelines rupture
how timelines overlap
we live untouchable story lines
(the accumulation of seeds
commenced 10 years ago when i moved
from a strawbale structure in northeast missouri
to a trailer on a farm on an island in portland
happened to leave them (seeds) in the patio cupboard
of the last house i left
which happened to be the next house you moved into
where you gardenplant this spring
with your current _______
you being some sort of ex but not quite
which isn’t to say we are still lovers
but ‘friend’ is too shallow a vessel hold all that presence/history
and as it goes, most of my relationships are more complicated
than pre-packaged terms allow
which is one of the reasons i refuse to say i love you
all of this a whole mountain of words
for how gold-gild brilliant it is
this overlap
of lo/iving)


popsicle delivery for a sun-hot day:
salted caramel
strawberry basil
lavender lemon
slightly melted during ice-cubed transport
we lick drips off
some we catch
some run rivers down our palms


it was strange
to live in a room with nothing in it
for a month
she says
we of the painter/lost eyesight fathers
we of the sewer/quilter mothers
we of the october birthdays
we of the quiet-in-a-corner-despite-birth-order childhoods
we of trauma of loss
we of the letting go


what it must have been like
the vacating


kate, meet 217
217, meet kate
i mention the paint set
the time capsule
the handwriting
the voice files


what do you think
aunt or uncle?
217 says
6week puppy in my arms
how about uncle


it’s like ikea
i say
before it got all commercialized
in reference to everything about the film l’argent
by which i think i mean
everything in its proper place


1am moon
thinner than paper
half full and horizon-huge

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