right now It’s all eye contact 
and endless questions 
it’s tangling and untangling
bringing up and letting down
on the daily 

it once was

endless days of waiting
always to be told what to do
an inner life 
unobserved
adrift in a sea of time 
spilling out in every direction 

or the time of 
bathing suits
running shorts 
drop down handle bars
bouncing curls
and drunkenly quoting a la recherche du temps perdu
all bluster and no bluff

there may yet be a time
with a large calendar 
hung on the wall
filled with doctors appointments 
and book clubs
slippers with supportive insoles
and some fullness of self
reaching
finally
the edges 
leisurely 

Pockets and all

there’s a lot to see here

enough to last a long time 
buckles on necks
a man with no legs smoking on the corner lean your head back to take it in 
psychic readings and limping Converse feet 
lock chain around his neck 
and lines and lines 
of people from 
far flying places hoping for paperwork 
to flutter into place
the longest shot
and no better options
around the bend

don't say nothin

Mo wore a t shirt today

for the first time in 2(?) years!
it was small and backwards
but we reversed it or rotated it
I kept wanting to tell him
he looked so sharp
sharp elbows

finally I can see them again
Tight blue t shirt, sagging jeans
Tullah said don’t say anything 

which I knew
and I smiled and I said something
and he growled at me ...in a loving way?
he said he wanted to wear it 

because he was playing with a 17 year old from across the hall 

and a 7 year old he says he wants to marry 

and they were both sweaty 

and wearing t shirts
arms like your dad
knee caps like your grandpa
don’t say nothin

alter ego

 the one that doesn't cow away

from having said a real true thing

that maybe even sticks a finger in the wound

- maybe that's too much - 

that fantasy of having left nothing unsaid

the table spread with all the food

you will brazenly not touch

finding it all unappetizing

the bike path quiet 

tucked under the city

dappled with streetlights through leaves

collapsed in a heap on the bank 

finding each other again always

roaming coop aisles

hours of the night never to be known again

in the company of laughter 

punch drunk

and slapping each other's cheeks

to stay awake a bit longer

the crushes/loves/break ups 

loomed large

but the real romance 

was us

intertwining

seeking out and staying in

I remember the bad brain

the cafeteria tables

hexagonal with circle stools attached

the geography of being known

and unknown

the meat of the matter

what we thought about each other

time thick and unfolding slow

 Doom bloom
Shoulder roll
I know you know
The thinking piece
 Nothing like these
Soft breaths 
In bed with me

Eye slips

Finger tips

Nose drips

If you can’t help it 

 Grabbed by the shirt collar
Oh the drama 
Of shaking off the cloak
Of apathy
I don’t want any plastics
I don’t want the banister falling apart 
Indolent from the get go
It’s all out in the open
Chicken grease and all

In the night kitchen

god in the desert
milk in the tea
I’m in the batter
the batter’s in me

fell out of a shoe

and don't much know

how an identity

assembles

soft/hard

structured/un

I don't look at your feet

but sometimes I do

and if you look at mine

I hope you can tell

who I am

i would make friends 

with the mouse

who's getting braver by the day

but feces and germs

and my brutish hugeness

so we are ships

passing through port at all hours

roommates scurrying to be unseen

ok it's out of sight

of the melting moon

I've forgotten about everything

from where I sit

it's all hazy plexiglass

the closest thing

to me

is the easiest thing

I was thinking of our love 
like a thick glob of roving
wild wool unfettered
few people know how to
pull at the mass 
and make yarn appear
and i don’t know 
I don’t know
how another day unfolds
with us here together 
the togetherness
so big and clumped
that it becomes unseen 
I think we both 
do know
how to pull at that love 
and make a small thing appear
a long delicate strong strand 
a feeling that we are known 
so deeply to each other 
and the days spread on

the woman on the street
stops to tell me to enjoy every moment 
(the baby is on my chest)
it goes by too fast
when you’re holding them 
you can’t see
I smile 
agree
thank you for letting me share
she says
and then we are at school pick up together 
and she talks to another grandparent
about how many steps she’s done
and ear infections 
and blood pressure
these bodies all pulsing
resting on each other
or just passing by

voices

what is the course of action

when:

you move back in 

with your uncle

-with a grand life plan

in place

which involves him 

happily relocating

to an intentional community

in the south west -

only to find out

he speaks angrily

to himself

and doesn't seem 

to want to leave

despite stating his intention 

to do so

next week

for over two months

and furthermore

you want to be

able to speak

in a baby voice

to the baby

without anyone else 

hearing you

but how can you be 

in this phase of life

and still hiding in the bedroom?

 no shade in the snow

another day of hands piled on

we're working on distribution

the scarcity pulse is real 

when it's not perception

but the fact of not having what's needed

and all the passersby 

on the outside of the barricades 

too bright to look at

 i ask my mom,

was grandma jane crazy about us 

when we were babies?

-not really she replies

and adds i feel like her

she worries rose cries

whenever she looks at her

but really she's a baby

and babies cry whenever they want

was great-grandma veronica crazy 

for you when you were a baby?

my sister asks my mom

no she replies

and so it's casual

when i find out we seem to come from 

at least a medium long line

of cold potatoes 

as dave calls them

from what specific discomfort

does this arm's length arise?

what's the wedge that serves to cleave

us apart 

so thoroughly

what chill in the air

causes one to wrap their shawl 

tighter around oneself

displaying to the next generation

how they ought to comport

primed always to hear an angry voice

projection is a scarf wrapped around my ears

to filter the words and tones

for any speck of upset

pull at any thread

easy to find why someone could be

cross at me

in my pussyfooting

hopscotching efforts 

to evade displeasing

friends, family, and strangers alike

my calculated footholds

serve mostly to provoke

the self-same ire 

i yearned to dodge

soft power
sharp pain
toffee breath
farther away
than you should be

hard left at

spacious parking lot

we're almost always

merging sooner 

than is optimal