like a shot of something that burns

slicing into citrus fruit whose rind
matches the kitchen walls
i place the segments in a bowl and
set it on the table between amber and i
click of smooth tiles
against each other on living room table
during a morning round of banagrams
featuring the words linty, axioms and quell
a bottle of 4-thieves spray
made in the minneapolis basement of a
friend of a friend
wrapped in a plastic bag featuring
cartoon teeth
which is twine-tied with a new-orleans
fleur de lis charm (mardi gras remnant) dangling off
romantic joAnn says to describe
how i blow through town
like an unpredictable wind
and rather than ask me for a summary/recollecting of
the past three months she says let’s start at
how has your morning/today been
stimulating, nourishing i say
of what happens when we
put our brains together
nothing is resolved she says in
the front seat
and i admire/commend her for
being with the being in process
ami animated in her bright micro-down jacket
telling tales of the fastest skis
(waxed by devon) at the berkebeiner
where the groups race in waves
and the comical culture of each wave
(how the elite wave is chill and no-fuss,
they’ve already made it into the top 200,
nothing to sweat
and the first wave that follows
practically tramples each other
when moving forward from corral to corral
to get a good start position
so that they might make the top 200
and in the fourth wave, people kindly call out
on your left as they are about to pass
to which a typical response might be
oh hey, no problem or how’s your day going
to collages! we joke-toast
holding up our small glasses of
mangosteen juice and pocardi sweat
before throwing them back like
a shot of something that burns
even though they don’t
silver pot of broth stove-simmering
while i mix the miso marinade in a
pyrex pitcher as amber breads the
small tofu rectangles and ami sears
the bok choy halves,
pandan leaves soaking in blue painted pitcher
a flurry of flipped magazine pages and
scissors chopping and
the rough-torn edges of
photos that might fit our
visions for 2016
(let me know if you find a cozy writing desk, i request)
and the many jokes about hot men and
dreaming big that ensue


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