glowing for home

parched i say in a swirl of soft
sheets reaching
out in nautical dawn light
for the water bottle

doing fine so far the woman
pushing the housekeeping cart says
as we exchange good mornings and
how are you doings

swish of new mexico and u.s. flags
(mostly slack) in library parking lot sun-
drenched high mountain morning


the drunkish man outside the
grocery store who tells us to
be safe and gives us each a
helmet tap on the left side
for good luck
little fifedoms debbie says across
the table explaining dutchness
(with a side story of how the law school
in austin was supposedly the place
to find the dykes) and germanic countries


a nut hatch and a woodpecker
debbie says of the painting with swirls
and symmetry she hands me
it’s portable

if you can’t finish it debbie says handing
us each a small plate piled
with pear almond tart
you can eat it for breakfast

i produce the word nixtamalize from
the recesses while the four of us
lounged on leather lazy boy-ish couches
piece together the tortilla making process


on the mantle: a candle
glowing for home
while scratching new moon intentions
on the blankness of page before us