mostlty rusted

how both eric and i do a costume change
for trailer de-con detail
due to all the poison ivy lining its perimeter
where we unscrew the corrugated metal skirting
mostly rusted
while baigz revs the chainsaw
in ordet to take down the trees surrounding it

the big silver pot
turned upside down on the dining room table
that conceals the treats for the adults
that trish brought back
from the dented can store
at the end of the day
i close my eyes and see the seemingly endless beds of tomatillo plants and
that terribe horrible rhizome grass that
is slowly creeping its way into the western edges
of south garden 


enter the sparklefest

how i don’t remember her name
but i do remember she grew up in madison,
we take turns holding the ladder
while we work our way up/down the greenhouse
drills in hands
screw by screw removing the
lath-like strips of wood
that hold the huge sheet of insulating plastic
to the roof
how we balance and teeter and strip screws and
dodge wasps in the process,
how rad it feels to be encouraging/supporting her
best i know how
in some of her early moments of power-tool using
(press into and perpendicular are my two main tips)


should spraypaint them hotpink i say
of the drill bits that keep
jumping ship

how each sandhillian who
walks through the kitchen door is wowed
by the knox college students’ slices of watermelon
because even when our watermelons do grow
they look nothing as big or as red or juicy as this
love loom moe says
at the kitchen sink about
the loom she just picked up from
a woman in town
whose husband made it for her
years ago

joseph’s deer-blood covered hands
on the phone
on the steering wheel and i make a joke
about getting a hold of some sani-wipes

asparagus spears
oiled and sweating
set on butcher block along with
the quinoa-rice
veggie masala
coconut oil/soy sauce garbanzo beans
tomato apple chutney
and toasted seeds
somewhere between justin bieber and the chromatics
she calls and we briefly
over tepary beans
and aleksandra’s release and

the delight/celebration of
catching each other now and
how maybe i can deliver the saved seeds myself
to the pima county library system
hammock-curled with the tassajara bread book
in my hands, reading until the light
is still alive in the western sky but
too dim to read by
enter the sparklefest of lightning bugs
flickering amongst trunks and branches
enter the softest breeze pulling itself
over my bare feet
enter the smell of baking granola
drifting out of the open kitchen window
enter full-body contentment and how i tell
the north garden mulch, the juniper branches
spreading out above me, the last light in the sky
how much i love my life/this moment in my life and
how grateful/lucky i am
while the intro to the tassajara bread book
is obnoxious because
mention after mention of bread baker after bread baker
(friends, mentors),  are all men,
it also says this:
baking bread will help you connect
with everything; it may take years, but…

through the lattice

hum of machinated harvest
off to the west
heard from hoophouse while i water
the baby greens and harvest
what might be the last bountiful
round of sungold cherry tomatoes

distant treeline seen
through bared branches
all that orange-gold against gray-blue
just before the last glints of light
glow in from the west


really, the skill is recovery he says
talking about how when we get
knocked of our bodies,
allowing ourselves to get knocked out and
then practicing and knowing
how to land back in
muscle memory


the rhythm of drilling screw after screw
in reverse as we take apart
the privy ramp/deck
made of wood soft as
decayed forest floor


strawflowers still
color-bursting into bloom
despite the night-freezes
how i clip them before
ripping their strong green stalks
from the beds


cat-ifying the garden shed
i add a plank that leads in from
glass-less window pane

trish offering a spatula-lick of
molten chocolate pre-birthday cake
chocolatey and cardamom
and then somehow we get to laughing
our asses off about
about the hike around that quilatoa crater
and how surely she hated me
and how comical it is to imagine
me dragging all that childhood baggage around the rim and
what a monster i was when it came to sharing covers

mica and cynthia arrive in
shades-of-blue face paint(powder)
post-pre-dinner dance party


shuffling through costume box
to try on variation after dress-up variation
of sequined things and
gold things and fedora things and
leather vest things
for tomorrow’s birthday extravanganza

walking across driveway and
the molten moon careens into view
through the lattice of tree branches
coppery and gigantic
lifting up off horizon

our skin we

greenhouse de-con crew
removing the last of the plaster from
earthen-bag stacks
trish insists
on the party speaker
and we work-dance
beginning with yeah

watermelon gum/ricola/post-tooth-brush
flavored kiss

pre-lunch liana’s
tattoo shop open
for business at
side-yard picnic table
an array of temporary dinosaurs
frogs and race cars offered
wrapped around white pine
trunk our limbs take on
black sap smudges
the sun shimmering
our skin we
lean in

half my age i say
of renay who i chase
up/down the ultimate field

lowering ourselves
into innertube opening where
we mime i-love-yous
maintaining somewhat-secrecy
amidst the pond flotilla

how we carry
scent is one way
of remembering

you can pick him
up sparky says
of the white baby (several
weeks old) goat
named cream
whose soft mowhawk
(running the length
of his spine) i pet
with my hand

cricket the cutest
rat terrier with
perfectly placed spots
perched in mica’s bike basket
while we pedal the missouri
gravel and non-gravel hills
in sea-foam face paint
(mica’s = tendrils and angles
mine = a single assymetrical stripe)

i had to keep myself
i say from chasing
your car down
that dirt road
gibbous meowing
through window screen
and perhaps against my
better judgement
i let him and his entourage
(ashby) in

from the water world:
Children play in a water fountain just outside Jerusalem’s Old City. A heatwave settled over Israel with temperatures reaching near 45 degrees Celsius (113 degrees Fahrenheit), according to Israel’s Metereological Service. – voice of america, day in photos


hauling old earthen plaster
bucketful by bucketful
out from leaky greenhouse
we pry with small crowbars and sticks
we got the de-con going on

three deer appear
on gravel road ahead
as we pedal uphill towards their ghost-tracks
liana shouts
i love you franciszka voeltz!!!
into the forest-y rainwet green
slice of pizza in
your pants ashly and i
compose a nonsense jingle
with accompanying hand gesture
after passing invisible
tea and crumpets
over hot tub waters

if she could choose
where i was right now
she’d choose for me
to be back in the womb
i say

holding cushions
one foot out of reach
as i pass them up the ladder
to ashly and how it gets funnier
each time

clearly out of my weight class
we wrestle/howl anyway
under xmas lights
gut-laughing in
breathless collapsings

bed-curled we pass
back and forth a
can of waist watchers
ginger ale
(bubbles popping against aluminum)
while snacking handfuls
of sandhill popcorn
from the water world:
A man travels down a flooded alley on a styrofoam board after heavy rainfall in Liuzhou, Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, China. – voice of america, day in photos

casting love over fences

1. garage door
rolls up
offering cool cement to  morning light
while i fix helmet to head
this is when
the yellowblack machines
into the last remaning
stand of poplars
whose leaves
i have watched
in summer wind.
whose branches
were made
to give wind
something to move through.
who have stood witness
longer than i have been alive
[the ultimate detail collectors])

the first of three
to the ground

on its descent
i heard someone yell out
that someone was not me

hands pressed to face
mouth in the shape of

a sound
a a quake
traveling across grass
to my feet

i have been
predicting this day
for weeks

casting love
over fences
to their roots

searching sky
at every homecoming
to see
that they were
still there

if you are going
to kill
you better do it
in the light of day
you better do it
when i can bear witness

2. a thousand biscuits
lined up
on the ground
before you
while our boss
licks egg
off the walk-in floor

3. curiosity meets curiosity:
walks her kid
through the kitchen
who, on the way out,
points to loaves of bread, cooling
asks what are those?

4. my other broom
is a hoover
with chrome that shines for miles

5. corinne
setting the altar
casting a circle
calling in the directions
east : air
south : fire
west : water
north : earth

6. it is when we
welcome earth
and say farewell
to it
that my throat
with tears

7. after the farewells
and before the smudge
i pull
the two of swords

8. old fashioned paper shredder:
blue handled scissors
bank statements
squares of
white confetti

9. double ethiopian vegetarian platter
for dinner
dried mango
from a mason jar
for dessert

10. get ready for this
i tell corinne
while pushing up my sleeve
i need this spiral
as a visual

i/we started/created this

1. six brontosauri
livingroom gathered
in agreement
about the joy
of this

2. several lists scrawled:
2009’s roses and thorns
what a carnival consists of
what a heart consists of
and writerly visions
for 2010

3. second moment this week of
sitting back
and looking around me
i/we started/created this
with pride and wonder

4. following the glitter
of airplane lights
in front room mirror

5. pink white cream swirl

6. after that comment about
partaking in traditional queer culture
the jokes about eating pussy
and traditional queer cuisine recipes
from epicurious

for hours.

7. image collecting.

9. what a heart consists of:
red blue pink
rooms with names on the doors
timelines layered into tissue that
renews itself every seven years
whole civilizations
tender machine
steady motor
emerald chakra
driving force
buried treasure ruby
dug into earth
of this skin
desecrated and worshipped
burgundy bouquet
a sky full of thunder