under thunder-gray

in the dream
you (wearing a purpled plaid button down
and your hair is salt/pepper) are working with youth
unloading boxes of produce
(organic, field fresh)
at a small receiving dock and i
(in this uncannily coincidental way
am down the alley
entering the store-room at my job (cafe/farm)
you see me see you and i jump into
the dusty store room (shelves of dry goods)
for quick invisibility
but then pop out again knowing i can’t really
disappear myself
and greet you with a hand-up wave, a hey
soft – something that sounds like arriving

at forgiveness


in the dream, honna threw me
a birthday party and
tapped into her friend group
to fill the space out
so there i was showered in love/adorations
by people whose names i felt like i should have known
because they were approaching me as if
we’ve known each other all this time


first tulip burst/bloom found
outside the privy/in the herb garden
pinkred and almost open


mica looking out long window
oh she says the may apples are up


under thunder-gray
wet green of sloping hills and woods-edge
(buds unfolding on branch tips)
almost glowing


i’ll bring my earplugs and gloves i say
into the voicemail
in reference to the post driver and posts that await
in iowa city


part gray, part red/pink/orange
small bird flying peachtreewards
against dim sky


tyler and i look at fairfield on the map
planning a half-hour detour towards
organic raw milk soft serve mango ice cream


we work with persimmon
what darien says is the hardest wood in
north america
various tools used:
sharpening stone
table saw
hand saw
gnarliest rasp

when it comes to the handsawing
we take turns tagging in and out


frankie!!!! look at my fan!!!!
emory’s dinner greeting to show me

hand built
with manual (hand crank) or electronic options
plastic (rubber? metal?) snapped together
i lean in to feel the breeze


mica’s rainy day dinner menu:
grilled cheese sandwiches
tomato soup
peach/blueberry cobbler
snow peas

while eating we discuss
horror movies, drive-ins, and the finer
points of digital/analog recording


the thwap of gibbus the cat against the window
as he night-hunts a small bird
and prowls away with it in his jowls


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