it’s going to be exponential

no jokes trish says propped up
in the healing bed
where i have come to say my good mornings and
show off the grapefruit peel i managed to keep
all in one piece
you can’t make me laugh
it hurts too much

spiritual awakening she says about
being able to see the love – so clear and
unmarked by other chatter – we all are made of
before she shows tyler and i the
blue-black bruised incisions
in her abdomen
(one going through her belly button)

i can tell i’m gonna heal trish says
i think it’s going to be exponential

wherein i give a tour at our weekly meeting
of the various jars of fat
that have gathered next to the stove

emerging with baigz at her side
to take a walk (a lap around
the butcher block) while i arrange
lunch around the vase of daffodils and
fruit tree blossoms

there will probably be lots of laughing mica says
about the frisbee game we are headed to
due to all the wind and her prediction
is true: the nearly point-less game
features a brilliant performance
of comedic fumbles that seem to go on forever
conjuring so many collapses on the ground to
get my cackle-laughs out
the way the disc has an unpredictable/trickster spirit
of its own when it collaborates with the gusts

in what used to be the herb garden
at d.r. emory and i walk along the cardboard-mulched pathes
that lead to the bed with the three praying mantis egg cases
(containing hundreds off eggs)
wrapped around thin branches

how i carry the tender cabbage start-lings back
into the greenhouse for the night just in case
the storm ahead is too much pummeling
for them to handle

rosemary’s babyface cream i say of the
cream/lotion cynthia and tyler
are whipping up in the kitchen
while the granola bakes


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