we think of all kinds of reasons to hi-five

the drizzle-mist that comes down for a bit

while we work our way stripping and machete-ing through field 3b

and how the mild temperature plus precipitation reminds me of the big island (hilo side) and the afternoon rains that would come in

but would never feel cold


all 285 pages of a radical existence

sealed and mailed and awaiting me

in my cubby


i almost went for rhapsody in orchid eric says

about his bowling ball selection

but instead he went for something nondescript – a plain color without a fancy name


almost spilling out of my cupped palm

a skittles rainbow

poured out from the quarter-machine

near the front door


nodding off as i write this

but slipping back into wakefulness enough to be lullabyed by

dottied in the next room singing and guitaring

a sweetest drifting off and rolling back in


how, due to my machete arm, i refrain from tossing a heavy-ass ball down the lane

but i still feel just as participatory, especially when it comes to half time

when i do my little dance in my cats-and-doughnuts leggings

careful not to step with my street shoes anywhere on the actual alley


besides strikes, we think of all kinds of reasons

to hi-five

(and this also includes the snail, the turkey, and the rocket ship)


in the backseat on our way home through the dark

emory (who normally doesn’t ask this question, and has met a fair share of genderqueers) asks whether tami who runs the bowling alley is a girl or boy