too pink to name

i’m uncertain
if i’ll be wanted anywhere
e says

telling me about just starting seminary school
to be a pastor
and as a queer
she worries she might not be wanted
so i write her a poem
that says how much she is needed
and how when she lands with the right community
they won’t realize how deeply they longed for her
until she arrives
noa bouncing in the seafoam / mint tealblue booth
of viroqua’s new mexican restaurant
while we each take turns being
the interrupting cow
the deep blueblack
of driftless hills to the east
as seen from the highways we pedal down
blueblack turned bluerblacker
through the tint of my shades
the squeak of a garage door rolling slowly up
of the house whose address is 666 (washington st)
as we pedal past
the bunny
dangling by the neck in the grip
of graycat’s sharp teeth
and how the adorable bunny body bounce bounce bounces
as graycat trots across the grass
too hot and too pink to name
the sun setting sends a shock
of neon-adjacent color
across the northern horizon
from west to east
while jennifer grubhoes away
at the impossible weeds and i plant edamame round three