your male conditioning is showing

6:30am awoken by
scritch/scratch behind paneling
pinkgold light
threading itself through leaves/branches
_______

your male conditioning is showing
we joke at check-ins
about how none of us have
that much to say
about how we feel/how we’re doing
_______

i trick myself
into running for 45 minutes
by committing to the standard 30
and then considering whatever comes next
without looking at the stopwatch
a bonus
_______

how am i
supposed to get up
to serve myself seconds
i ask the ridiculous
curl of cuteness
in the form of a kitten
tucked at the intersection
of my ankles
of my cross-legged position
_______
lightning bug
(black/red long beetly body
and a dot/circle on/near the head)
crawling onto my finger as
i stoop in the almost-dusk light
to pluck weeds and mash cabbage loopers
in the brassica beds
_______
faded perma-markered 313’s
on the fronts of my thighs from
yesterdays tri-try
birthday-athalon antics
_______
coyote balm applied to
wrists and symmetrical
behind-the-knee mosquito bites
_______
the tricky but crucial part
according to mica
of making kettle corn
is tossing the sugar in
while the kernels begin to pop
_______
the seemingly endless
ting-a-linging
of mason jar against
cool terra cotta-ish tile
after tumbling from
dish rack
10something p.m.

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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