the spaciousness

a pink meringue offering to the st. louis sun as it climbs
(we can see our breaths)
a word for how the panels of metal throw its shine back into sky
a word for recreate a photo from back when a vanfull of us drove from minneapolis to st. louis in one night and then back again to stand outside the courthouse to support our fellow activists which was over 10 years ago

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honna and i can’t help but laugh
standing in the collective bakery
which reminds us of the trainwreck collective cafe we both worked in
when the guy behind the counter standing near the espresso machine says
i don’t know how to use that machine
i can get you coffee
but i can’t make you an espresso drink
we’re just really busy
(a total of two tables of customers
though we understand the business of a bakery
and how busy can mean cranking out orders in the back for the weekend
praying that no customers come in)
_______

st. louis city museum we
wind through welded webs
dodge children and their adults
put on dance shows in front of the theater seats
sit and paint at a stained table
roll around in a sea of playground balls
take turns in the photo booth
squeeze through narrow passageways
climb metal and wood and plastic and concrete
slide down (sometimes in circles from 5 stories high)
chow down in the snack alcove
swing from rope and slide down wooden ramps at the skateless park
chalkdraw and pinball-play
circle our way up into treefort mazes
put our hands to the spared cornices of buildings constructed in the 1890s and demolished in the 1960s
discover the spaciousness of possibility

_______

four fork-fulls of raw key-lime pie
in the front seat
moving along harbor drive