into hands like ink

after sifting
40-some gallons of compost
one gets the rhythm
of it
and carries that dirt
pressed into hands like ink onto paper
for the rest of the day
and into tomorrow

gibbous the cat
fast as a streak
indigo bunting trapped
in his sharp teeth grip
in the greenhouse

can you act out
coking an omelet tyler asks
at the site of the future
outdoor kitchen
and baigz does some
egg-cracking pan-handling gestures
facing north
glimpsing out across chicken yard

how hard we laugh
at the lunch table
over the image/concept
of chain mail chaps (assless)
and later
we laugh hard again at
all the cheesy parts of
karate kid


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