something scapular

in the dream, the pink sunset fire
(and gray smoke thick and rising)
was moving along horizon
a broad sweep
and we strategized with water
(gathering and transporting)
and shovels for tamping
as if it isn’t a swell
a singeing tsunami
hurtling across landscape
_______

steam rising from
big wooden bowl on butcher block
as i lift the plate off its top
revealing an abundance of
silver dollar pancakes
_______
teacup joseph says
the name of the corduroy cat/pillow
named after an actual cat
that i pull beige thread through
_______

i’m back on board i say
and reference that part of the footprints poem
that says something about
how jesus says
the times there were only one set
of footprints
were the times i was carrying you
_______
how i can see the network of nerves
where boi presses fingers
and manipulates muscles
accompanied by the lift-fall
of my deep breathing and my
mutter/whinings of
that shit is fucked up
(meaning the knots my muscles/ligaments/tissue
tied themselves into and why and how)
_______

if only i could type like this
i motion with my hands behind me
under the cypress tree
while alyssa explains things
about muscles whose names
i’ll never remember
though one of them
was something scapular
_______

i detour from dumping buckets
of just plucked weeds
(from herb garden spearmint beds)
to suck in lilac scent
_______

reporting live and direct
from the greenhouse i say
to a satellite that
sends my words/sound to a
phone ranging somewhere
in northern new mexico
_______

sky reads rain
(sunset clouding over
except for a poke-through
where pink/orange spills out)
_______

we ordered them for ya’ll
and they arrived just in time i say
to baigz and mica upon their 40-mile
bike ride return (tired and victorious)
about the fireflies blinking
on and off around us in
post-dusk sky

_______

from the water world:

A4FAFF81-7938-4E05-B235-C2EB9811F763_w974_n_s

A man lies on the ground as Turkish police use a water cannon to disperse protestors during a May Day rally near Taksim Square in Istanbul. – voice of america, day in photos

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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