i feel a mustache coming on

that girl is on fire i sing
as the field blackens from
licks of flame traveling across it
we move the flat sides of shovels
across any fire we want to extinguish
(similar to spreading butter on bread
with a butterknife)
and we use pitchforks to toss
the burning further into the
unlit portions of field
_______

how we laugh
at the edge of the line of flames
at how hot it gets
singe of dried grass
crackle of branches
if you can’t take the heat jacob says
get out of the prairie
my neckerchief lifted up
over my face
we walk away carrying
smoke smell woven into the
fibers of our clothes

_______

shine of small black salamander
held in emory’s open palm
that he ran up karma stairs to share
_______

tortilla-less tortilla soup i name the
roasted corn/tomato chipotle blend
_______

it’s argentinian i say
of the chimichurri sauce
a condiment i cannot mention
without thinking gaston
and sorta saying hi
to his spirit
_______

i feel a mustache coming on
i laugh with rachel via
google and by the end of it all
we are obscured
by stamps and ships and waves and
crowns and feathers and shapes
we can’t even discern

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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