ashby the cat keeping me on my game
by waking with the birds
which means i am up and stretching
before 7am
taking in the early light of day

the blown-apart-looking tulips,
red petals opened every which way
survivors of much wind and some storms
and the it’s a shame thought i have
about how none of them became bouquets
and then i think maybe it’s not such a shame
that no one came at them
with knives or scissors

trish and dottie next to each other on the couch
each wearing the same blue
(for trish, it is a solid shirt,
for dots, it’s a repeating stripe of that blue in the plaid pattern of their button-up)


we butchered him alton says
just driving by the chapter house
outside of tuba city, arizona
about the big mean ram i never met

the orange streak
drawn across horizon
under all the blue-gray
as seen from west-facing kitchen window
while the clang and splash of dinner dishes
comes from the sink
where tyler stands sudsing and rinsing

the line in the orion article
i read as i fork dinner into my mouth
that talks about building treehouses (how it’s never really for the kids
but rather, for the adults who always wanted a treehouse as a kid but never had one
or for the adults who miss their childhood treehouses
and the author is talking about building one for his kids in a siberian elm
and then he says something about the tree being an invasive species
and so maybe he shouldn’t care about it so much 
but i’m an invasive spcies too he reflects

the sheen and vanilla-y smell of nanak’s skin repair
glowing on my fingers as i type this
the very particular smell of this very particular smell
will always remind me of a very particular fall
in the very particular town
of taos

with a headlamp and spraybottle, it begins:
the endless task of spraying the brassicas
with BT (a bacteria that tackles the cabbage loopers
which will hopefully prevent them 
from taking the crops over)


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