wild green things

the scratches mama cat leaves
when i swoop the toy pummy
(too short) past her quick and sharp claws
_______
the message, like a bird, swooping in
as i walk through the basement kitchen:
this place is dying
_______
how jack the jack russell and i
walking in our own states of happiness
and our shared state of happiness
down the gravel road
in the humid heat
feels like home
_______
the salad of wild green things

darien prepared and how i go back
to try, for the first time:
milkweed pods and milkweed flowers
accompanied by the lamb’s quarters he foraged
______
how we howl with our laughter
at the nonsense of the if/then game
which produces various hilariousnesses
such as:
what if our souls could merge with everyone else’s souls?
then there would be a lot more moats in the world
_______
henri tossing paper scraps to ashby the cat
and then giggle-laughing
at how he plays/bats
at each crinkly bit

_______
sounds like they’re playing little castanets
i say of the cricket frogs clicking/croaking

around the edges of apple’s pond
that we walk our way down into
in the dark
the sky spilling its star soup
across itself
_______
on the edge
of sleep in the wavy-walled cabin
whose floor is marked with an anarchy-A in a heart
she says i like the us
that we are becoming

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