in the dreams
leaping from building to building because
you can do that in a city and that
is where we were (new york-ish)
and our delivery truck of crates of beets sat parked
with the back rolled up
for a good long while before i started
hauling the crates restaurant-wards, unsure
there was an italian boy
sorta tall sorta sweetfaced
in town for one night and he chose to cuddle
with his italian sorta similar friend for the eve
and even though it was clear
that my offer was still standing
i was endeared by his
comrade-friend reunion choice


it may be therapeutic/ personal growth work-y
AND our writing is still writing i say shining
at the head of the table where we sit with
our notebooks opened

smooth/soft curly blond/brown poodle fur
of roshana’s dog under the
curve of my palm

now that’s an unnamed phenomenon i say to trish
who shares something about home being
a smell so familiar that you have to go away
and then return in order to smell it again

the power of writing ourselves
into the world and reading those selves outloud
and when i say thank you for risking that i mean
i could not be more humbled/honored to share
this space with you
how sometimes we surprise ourselves with the power
of speaking the stories we carry


trish and i perched on tall chairs
on the mercantile porch
chomping cheese poofs while baigz offers
squares of pretzel chocolate

they’re all split alline says of her tomatoes
and i split them all the way down the center with
a blade before devouring the
delicious garden-grown globes


the appearance of a fresh-baked
peanut butter blossom cookie
(the kind with the chocolate kiss on top)
while i was away from my plate
confirming the fact that
sugar plum faeries really do exist

frankie danger speaking i
pick up the call
in the hallway

the unexpected forms of missing
and the resulting heart/homesick such as
the appearance on liz’s page of
new mexico peaches and chiles
cut up and laid out on the counter
how the surprise of it all double-whammifies
the entire effect
crew of kids in
common house yard
commotioning with limbs and exuberance
under the first fat marbles of rain

tattoos last forever nic says
but we don’t which is the best retort yet
i’ve heard on the case

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