about the onesie

we laugh at how
the hilariousness of
the i’m speeding
only cuz i have
to poop sign
lies in sticking
it on other people/creatures
(sneaking it onto
someone else’s briefcase, for instance,
or onto the sleepy toad jacob
found yesterday while
north-garden digging
winds so strong
they sent the solar
oven over the cistern
edge into a state
of bustedness

the quick rhythm of
carefully removing tiny tomato
starts from their tray of
compost to
to dropping each on in
its own finger-pressed
hole in soilblocks lined up

rattle of greenhouse
in gray-sky thunder-rumbling
storm winds

dried corn husks lifted
off stubbly field
and sent swirling across
dirt road
tufts of dust tossed
in their wake
i run through
sands sting felt on
did you get my text
she asks about the onesie
before descending into
the valley of no cell signal


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