call me sequinning

something like a clown car or
the shit show˚ we have always been,
the brontosaurii (lauren, jesse, lola, shiz, me)
one hour off schedule but still
we lace our boots on and
tromp our way up and down
cape horn mountain
and make it back to town in time
˚(to be noted: we might be shit show but still,
when it comes down to it,
we get it done)
growing out of soft-mossed branches/stumps:
green fern fronds pointed up and
ruffling in gorge-top wind
i wouldn’t call it fear of commitment
i talk over my shoulder to jesse
as he and ziggy and i wend our way
back down
but i am able to articulate
this terror of apathy/complacence/roteness/taken-for-grantedness/dependence
speaking my language i joke
in the back seat about the jar of
crunchy jif which i spoon-scoop into
and scrape with apple wedge
it’s nice to have something shiny
lola says referencing the presence
of someone they kiss in their life
in the backseat as we roll
along the gorge
whose waters swell and shimmer
the POOM!!!!!!! and KABOOOM!!!!!!
puncturing night from two doors down
(fireworks i asess to be purchased
across the river which also serves
as the state border)
while shiz and i grate carrots
for the bbq side dish
perspectivizer i call shiz when
she helps me see what my storyspinning
can so easily obscure
a name for
how partway through (the movie bridesmaids)
gina, shiz and i are laughing
so uproariously that i keep hoping
it will not end,
at least not quite yet
please don’t
call me friend

call me unicorn
call me queen
call me sequinning

call me tiger stripe
call me moon matter
call me swatch of sunset

call me made of universe
(a mobile hung from larynx,
planets rotating inside ribcage)
call me what once was (and still is)
call me pumpkin pastry or coconut ginger

call me tree fort
or arugula patch
call me last harvest
(pecans gathered from the orchard at the edge of
the bike path
dusty shells cracking against each other
in the pressure of a palm)

call me spirit
call me wingspan
call me blood orange juice dripping
down forearm in the morning

call me great lake,
8th wonder,
the sand that made the glass you
sip from that might one day become sand again

call me a ripple in the time space continuum
which has shown us what can happen when
it lines up in our favor

call me gale force (as in: wind)

call me ponderosa pine
call me luminous
call me cougar

call me card zero (as in a journey’s beginning)
or call me seeker

call me all the miles
between the places where our feet meet earth
(you – sand-scraped desert
me – moss-soft rainforest)

call me your favorite practice of being present
so i know what it feels like
to be plagarized

call me personal trainer
call me camera shy
call me boy,
call me the part of the moon we can’t see but know is there

call me kale chip
call me herman@
call me the sound of my 25-cent ring
when it hits the floor

call me origin
call me storyspun
call me the creaking of a sea-tossed ship

call me hot water bottle
call me element
call me the shape of my fist curled

call me the brass section of a marching band
call me blood pulse
call me made of muscle/bone/skin
bending like ani’s buildings and bridges
were made to
in the wind


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