turning to light

in the dream
it was kindof like a hold-up
or that moment in movies
where the shit goes down
it was haze-gray
and we three worked in a team
we unloaded ourselves from the van
maybe L.A.
maybe somewhere southwestern
maybe a city i’ve never been to/through
dusty air suggesting an old saloon
something like plucking eyebrows in the forest beforehand
i was pretty sure i was one of the good guys
so getting killed wasn’t an option
but when we attempted to  surround the classrooms
nothing seemed foolproof


blue-handled scissors to clip
front yard mint
off-white string to
wrap the bunches
tiny nails
hammered into shipbed
to hang herbs upside down
to dry


taylor tells mango mango man was back last week
no words for this news just
hands to heart and
face turning to light


the other day
digging in backyard garden
struck a tangle of nerves
undoing the deep belief
that i am a dime a dozen


church-step perched
liz and zeia and i wave to the kid parade
we watch the walks of life
we pass the 2-strawed thai tea
(that once belonged to lisa? sarah?)
back and forth
until sufficiently drugged


the wonder of
the leg-braced
rough-haired man
with a sign that says god bless
i feel my pockets for spare change while he
asks if we like strawberries
lifts a pint from his basket
and hands it over

and on the walk home
i run into the man who i earlier handed me
a hot-pink sign-language alphabet card
and i fumble through
what alphabet i know
to tell him where i’m headed
and we converse this way
for at least 5 mintues


i’m glad outer space could aid you in your healing
i say

voice carried via satellite
to what once was a rainforest
shiz and i laughing
into the mouthpieces


the disjuncture /hilarity that occurs
in the kitchen when will
asks about the life-changing conversation
i mentioned several days ago
but for the life of me
can’t recall now


no necesito cosas correcto
217 says
solamente palabras que son verdaderas
to which i respond
with gratitude
for this wisdom
and perspective


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