or do, but can’t prioritize a pitstop
of thrushes, zimbabwe’s fuel hike
or cadillac mountain aglow
in my granite memory
nothing here is small
only the me inside
that knows
like moontide
i exist
when you say hello
data spins like slot machine fruit:
a broken wing
coffee grounds
playground swings
the hammock of my surrender
the star-studded blackness over zion
my palm against the cool
codex of gymnasium
door handle &
tomorrow you’ll ask how are you
another spin:
toner stains, kukulkan, renaissance hips gleaming in stolen gold
estefani hoping her mother returns from el salvador, speedboats
slapping caribbean shallows where the kuna yala ousted panama
orville wright playing the mandolin at ocean’s edge
are you still there?
on day three, i am certain to respond
only i don’t
stuck in the slots:
my gypsy mother, the nepalese flag, meerkats
midnight walks up old farmingdale road with my discman blasting
the unforgettable fire & crushing hard on someone i’d never speak to
my sons’ questions warm in my ears, thai mangoes, head of shop
the wood mouth where wolf tracks meet dumpster
my limitations, the thrill of being wrong
my wife’s cistern soul, our caramel hearts round as bird nests
the vault of our love, the redshift of our late-night bed
another failure
another colleague
left to wonder
just say you’re fine
ask how THEY are
i’ve been told
maybe what i really want
is to grab their arm & say—
against the hollow school locker clang—
that no day should slip by without a receipt
that we must catch life’s verses
line by line
so that when, calmed
by death’s silent interview
we are brought to the ground’s
green embrace, it will take us back
no questions asked