Monday, April 14, 2014

last night as i exited the grocery store

last night as i exited the grocery store someone passing by the cart-lines in front of me was redolent with weed. it was either the mom with her two young children yelling out for the truck-shaped cart or the loner guy with his long hair, black band t-shirt, and 24-pack of cokes, and i will not speculate.

when i lived in guatemala i accidentally told the owner of my school that he sexually excited me, when what i meant to say was that i was excited to climb up and into the old volcano. there was a lake there the fog rolled in that's a literal term now i have seen it. my host mother's nephew's name was alex we talked world politics in spanish as we climbed the uneven, handmade stairs back up and out of the mountain's insides, he was very kind.

i could hardly breathe the path was steep and me with only the one lung functioning, the other tender scarred and knotting around itself, squeezing. see now i run because i can and because i am the only reason i can, because the doctors told me i could never run again, could never breathe hard again, could never fly. i tear down the path underneath arching trees my breath comes fast heavy fuck, yes look at me now i am flying.

cat leaps onto the couch behind it startles me. we both had a good laugh, the school's owner and i, and he put his arm around me. there's a picture of the two of us somewhere i remember him mostly for his tango classes (i had never danced in public before i wore a long skirt small shoes and felt self-conscious but laughed anyway) and for his small low-to-the-ground pickup all of us riding in the bed weighing it down so the bottom nearly scraped the road on our way to a farewell dinner. i remember how lavish the restaurant was, or how it attempted to be, and i feel sad with some kind of nostalgia or something, how do you talk about the ways we try to convince ourselves we matter?

i think music is one of the greatest gifts we've been given, expression in general, herons, marshes, rivers, forests. did i tell you i have a new spirit animal?

i will eat the orange i will eat it with my fingers sticky and swirling scent up and out of the windows. the children playing in the park and the men playing basketball and the cat sleeping he is back to his favorite blanket on top of the couch. dear wilson you are very brave.

i suppose i want to see what happens even more than i want to be safe. do you remember DC back pressed to the wall men whispering one after the other i said thank you why don't you give me your number so you will never call me. i came here to dance can't you see my boots and the way i swing my arms swirl my hips stomp my boots around the floor? still i loved them, the three of them, maybe more, god you were there too, how do any of us make choices we stood by the pond full of huge golden fish you kissed me you weren't supposed to i think that is a limiting term. i do not want to live like this, erecting new barriers each year, each month, this is right this isn't count 'em how many points out of 10? i will eat the orange i will eat it with my fingers sticky and swirling scent up and out of the windows.

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