butterfly weed

in the dream the city’s water
was rising – mud-colored
and coming up through grates
and this was all after i went
to the Y near the suburb i grew up in
to swim and there was a convergence
of nephew and brother-in-law and a radical
queer performance (portland contingent)
and stevie ann passed me
her number on a ticket stub
and i last-minutedly and improvisationally
jumped into the performance and on the walk home
someone says something to me from acrossthe street (about taking the other way home)
and i’ve never met this person
but she appears dykey
and i press her up against a fence
we kiss hard
butterfly weed (made in minneapolis) joolie says
about the essence explaining
how love is both expansive and liberating
not limited, suffocating, abandoning or untethering in a losing-yourself kindof way
how it is not leaving your or fleeting, but
rather it grounds you and sets you free


plastic bag taking flight
airborne lifting up and over
a two-car garage