in a gladiator setting

disembodied hands (cut off by window frame)
hanging laundry as seen from library seat nestled
amongst rows and rows of books,
sun so bright the white of the laundry
throws it into this darkened room
yesterdays deep brilliant bright blue flags
(stuck in ground to mark something
with accompanying blue spraypaint dash)

not seen today because i am moving
at bicycle speed instead of on foot
the hard part nik says of telling a small part
of a big story
carrying hay

pitchfork by pitchfork across north garden as kim
in sunhat and cotton plaid
and i talk about our
relationships to our sisters

spoonful of cashew butter
like candy i say later
to angie perched at the mercantile counter
and i don’t remember what kind
but she said she and her friend
did a pairing and it goes well
with a certain kind of wine

crew packed into truck bed
while i shift into reverse
something about trish and i
in the cab
the sun blazing through windshield
the rodeo of gravel roads
makes it all feel
wonderfully thelma and louise-ish
wherein we play a walking point
and then another
and maybe even another

on the ultimate field
post-pizza which looks like:a ridiculous comedy of speedwalking zombies
some kind of wind up toy
cynthia and i faster-than-speedwalking side by side
as if we’re training for
the three legged race
and later in the kitchen
after proposing a walking-only frisbee tournament
we give imaginary teams names:
walk it out


dissapointment may be the best word
for what is happening inside me
during the democratic primaries debate
between hillary and bernie,
hoping for something that smacks a lot less
of reality tv show in a gladiator setting
and more of the kind of feeling i get
when i watch someone do something
they’re really good at