as we begin our exits

first we sing the come home song
and then we proceed slowly, quietly from there
one is too many [violent hate-killings] i say
after mo lights the candle and the five of us circle
on blankets in the shade of the oak trees
on slater’s
holding vigil
with a vase of tigerlilies, an offering of 3 strawberries,
a clear cool jar of water, a feather, some chicory
i wish i could be standing
on the bridge as they cross over
just to hold their presences


i am going to do one intentional life-giving/supporting
thing today
i say as we begin our exits
you know this one well
i say to alline across the table

about the no disclaimers guideline
in between free-writes

how the particular strawbale mercantile smell
after i pass through the door into the back hallway
reminds me of the early fall last year,
the first feet i started to walk on
(erasure poems)
in the wake of the grand mess of
i can’t do this anymore

mo and i floating in the cool of mica’s pond
me with the yellow noodle her with the purple
(or was it the other way around?)
water fountaining

the eye-of-the-tiger station
cranked loud meaning
my earphones blast gnr, journey, the scorpions
while i power through the stitches of
the last 10 harnesses
feel like a teenager i laugh
to baigz with these things in my ears
the sound
of the first locust of the season
piercing the air with its buzz/whine
under the just-arriving light
of the moon (full) on day of longest light
of the year

when my dad picks up
on the other end
we talk bonsai
and moon
and driving stickshift
asks if its full over here
tells me he is simultaneously learning
which kinds of plants to bonsai and which not
while also wondering exactly why
he’s doing it at all


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