donning the chaos chaps

7am sunlight landing
on melted-frost dew
clinging alfalfa stalks/leaves
giving the appearance of glitter (the prismatic kind that makes rainbows)
glued to edges
_______
from plastic chair perch near the office
(in mid-day sun)
the sound of new birds
(that i haven’t yet heard here)
dipping from branch to branch
too quick to get a close look
but their small-bodiedness is discernable
_______
i’m on pills jokes regina
in a sitting chair
in mara’s red-floored living room
_______
moon, almost full, distinguishing
east sky
from the ragged ridgeline that rests below
_______
double chocolate cake slice
set in the middle of the table
flanked by three forks
we laugh about the led zeppelin
[and other anthemic classic rockers[ (chocolate-cake-eating)
soundtrack

_______
you’ve done it again, taos
i say when the guy yells out his window
at the three of us
near the stop sign
not to harass us
but rather to report on the accident
further down the road
_______
my phone keeps turning the word ‘chaps”
(as in chapbooks) into ‘chaos
jen writes perhaps that is the problem

to which i respond by saying something about
how we need to don these chaos chaps
for all the roping the project entails

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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