That's kombucha for ya

 

Balsamic dressing on the thigh of my gray sweatpants

Cooking and ceremony 

This has been the year of transformation, but not in the ways I'd expected 

A lot has come to light

Things are not as I thought they were or would be 

What I do with that information is up to me 

It begins with being honest 

What tins are in here? 

Are you thinking of me? 

Our friends are growing up 

They have allowed each other to evolve and I should, maybe, do the same 

I should stop doubting that my feelings have a reason for existing 

Am I the only one who remembers what we used to be like? Do I assign too much weight to it? 

Not gospel, but data 

Eating a banana on new year's eve

New year's day hike, then bonfire 

Soon enough I will no longer be biologically capable of having children 

It's time for a reckoning 

Across the gulfs of grief 

What do you need to burn? 

It's time to make biscuits 

old-school hydrogen

 

Did you put some silk in here? 

Should I message you 

A marathon, not a sprint 

Oh how I miss skiing the backcountry, along those train tracks in the valley, beneath the great red rock 

A question posed: Do I return? 

We can't go back 

How do you want to move forward 

I feel like I'm withering here 

A trip to the Adirondacks cancelled 

A back once again seized with pain 

Two industrial boxes of pads 

Wanting to run away with you 

Wanting to run away 

Please know that I am not this way with anyone else 

The yearning, I can't stand it 

I need the snow, the expanse, the climb and the rush 

It's feeling so heavy 

That has never been right 

My past, I worked so hard to move away from it 

Would you go adventuring with me? 

I needed to come back here to see 

My parents cannot love me 

I have been dishonest with myself

I have struggled more than I ever cared to share 

He is devoted to the cat 

Releasing allows space for a new breath and a new future 

I'm beginning to embrace the more delicate songs 

Maybe I don't need to rage all the time 

I don't want the trappings 

I want the joy 

Come on you looney toon, get in 

Giving, receiving

 

Sorry, I didn't see it there 

On a trail run exploring new paths 

Electrocuted 

On my knees by the roadside 

All seized up

Moaning in the Subaru's passenger seat in the city parking lot 

He fetches salad, plain yogurt, sauerkraut, sirloin steak 

A piece of turmeric-infused CBD chocolate 

Here, hold my ankles 

Swing my legs slowly onto the driveway 

A flash of my grandmother

I know we're supposed to say wheelchair user now, but she was wheelchair bound 

Wanting to speak so badly 

Cursing in her final days 

A fire in her 

Twenty-thousand in the stadium where I used to live 

Riding the subway home late-night, all high and twinkly lights 

Friends dropping acid while I threw up in the bedroom

Twice every twelve years or so 

Wow. There it goes

Waiting to eat the cauliflower salad 

Once again unable to dance 

I don't know if I have it in me to start over 

I got really frustrated and I gave up 

I have heard rumors all over town

 

Loud sounds and bright lights 

A wolf on his tummy 

We're an evergreen family 

Mom wants Botox and a Samsung watch 

Dad isn't really talking any more 

Once again my brother has flown nine thousand miles away 

We have been so uncareful with each other 

I have given shelter to his bad habits and they have grown on me like fleas 

I don't know if I will be able to speak freely again 

I have tried and tried and tried 

Loneliness is less confusing 

Is it rolling? 

I said I'd only do what's necessary 

Like a bat out of the chimney 

Resting weary wings on shiplap 

I don't know if I want to be here 

I don't know if I want this work or this house or this place or these feelings 

Is this what growing older feels like? 

Constriction and doubt 

Of course I miss it 

Lying across that bed upstairs 

Hunter-green skirt 

Black t-shirt 

What kind of shoes did I wear then? 

Remember when I went to West Virginia? 

Of course I miss them--the mountains 

What's the distinction between running toward and running away? 

It's time for a reckoning 

He has left his wife and entered the conference room holding hands with another woman, maybe 

Is anybody certain? 

A big red arc across the globe 

Orion bright above the hickories 

One more night 

All that I can do's what I can*

 

Trying to cinch it

Leather girth redolent of horse sweat

Smoking in the city 

I used to have a high tolerance

Sitting on the living room rug

Vodka from the bottle 

I used to absorb so much suffering 

Stalled out in the darkened subway

Hand clenched on an overhead strap 

Taking it 

Walking around with shoulders up to my ears

Muscles en garde 

Wanting a savior 

Unsettled and undecided 

I used to be so much less afraid of feeling 

*Sharon Van Etten 

Type A Lamp

 

Pink and blue swirl into a Buddha on a black background

The elder teachers do not know how to speak to the trans child 

She, so young, is leading the way 

Good friend sleeping down the hall 

He tugged on my license 

Palm fronds peeking 

A small mustard lamp in the shape of a figure-eight 

Secondhand aspirations 

A tick has gorged itself on Hanna 

Too bloated to waddle across the rug 

I cradle it in toilet paper, drown it in a small jar of isopropyl alcohol 

A rare moment without mercy 

At the city green space they charged us $8 to park 

Still we walked the green paths, desperate for them 

Outsideness is relative 

Rattlesnake territory 

Tired and sad 

Sick of working 

I want my healing to matter too 

I am trying to hear myself instead of always telling me I'm wrong 

We are talking more and more often now, have you noticed? 

I miss so much 

I am tired of balls; I am tired of courts 

Nine more days til rest 

Come on June you can do it 

I'm sorry I didn't text you back 

So many cobwebs in need of dusting

Where pain lives

 

 

I guess this is it 

A 1971 French documentary film

Sleeping alone on a queen-size mattress

Wildness inside me 

 

How many times have I sat here listening and yearning 

Is the yearning the point? 

Or the directive

I think it's unreasonable to think it's too late 

Life is just so much vaster than that 

I've heard so many stories 

We are a different kind of young 

Lie down

Head draped off the mattress

Climbing on top 

Like this, and this, and this

I guess this is it 

White chili with corn and green peppers 

A mug of red wine 

Plain, whole-milk yogurt with cinnamon and honey

Easter egg

 

This is armor 

This is a fire inside me 

I've been victimized, yes 

I've been predated 

Here I am, not a carcass

Not a lifetime's serving of meat 

Not in need of defending, as a finite resource 

I am tired of being hoarded 

 

I never asked to be shielded

I asked to be seen

Fairy tale

 

Do you think I didn't exist before you 

Think I was goody two-shoeing until you came along 

That's a story I told myself and other people 

In truth I was practically feral 

Loaded and climbing trees 

Sleeping it off in the grass during Trey's late-night set 

Giggling in a tent 

Basement sex followed by third-floor sex etc. 

All those dubstep parties 

I don't think partying makes you cool 

My point is I've done more than has been acknowledged 

My point is I knew what I was doing 

My point is I'm not a princess in a high stone tower 

Do you think you're as good as you've wanted people to think you to be? 

Kindness doesn't arise from fear 

I've pretended for a while now 

I'm still stitching the stories together 

Let go of my motherfucking hair 

Golden pillow

 

The magical man appears dressed in white on a bike 

The magical man appears dressed in black and walking his dog 

I am not a koala 

The outdoor halls have been decked

Roping and white lights around the garage, the front door 

A small concolor fir staked in the front yard, sparkling white lights on it 

Soon my friend's kids and I will make peanut-butter-covered pinecones, dried orange slices, strings of cranberry and popcorn 

The squirrels will feast 

Each winter, so far, a flock of robins descends on the small pond in the backyard 

Each spring, they peck the grassy hillside alone or in pairs 

A single starling pecks amongst them 

Perhaps they lost their flock 

Perhaps they preferred the peacefulness of the robins to the wartime maneuverings of starling hordes 

Perhaps they yearn for a red breast 

I want two breasts and two legs 

I have eaten the chicken salad 

I am snuggling with Hanna on the couch 

She is tired from days of hiking 

I am collecting small prints of animals, each with a brave, just heart 

 

One of the most mind-blowing encounters of my life 

Love is behavior

 

It's a whole vibe 

Ten miles in the woods, boots in the dirt 

Memory: log-stone formation by a creek 

Bottom of the gulley 

Story-sharing 

Light filtered through deciduous leaves

Memory: skinny dipping below the blueberry farm 

Shy in creek-soaked underwear 

Exposure: women who comfortably inhabit their bodies 

Birch logs crackling 

The pumpkins have passed their prime 

The green shoulders may impart an off flavor 

That one's moldy; that one's weird 

I chopped quite a lot of vegetables 

Rock-hopping in the creek 

I've climbed for miles

Stripped off my clothes in mountain winds

Stepped white-naked and goose-bumped into alpine lakes 

It's funky, but I dig it

Tomorrow will we go antiquing? 

It's supposed to rain. We might not hang the roping. 

Drinking malbec from a gray coffee mug 

Broccoli and cauliflower dipped in hummus 

Chips and various dips  

In Greece I ate nothing but tzatziki and spinach pies 

In Guatemala I ate orange papaya and swapped regrets with friends

In Vienna I found a castle and palatial gardens behind a modest brick wall 

In Ireland I walked alone by the roadside and befriended two horses on the edge of a vast green pasture 

In Germany I went to the museum and I cried 

We met at the museum in Pittsburg and I listened to The Weepies the whole way home 

Last time I saw him was in a strappy blank tank top and black capri sweatpants 

We wore short shorts on the edge of the canyon 

Last time I saw her I gave her a gift that I thought she'd love and I told her I loved her 

Last time I saw her? When she invited him too 

The colorful balls rest contained and unattended on the coffee table 

I want to see you again 

Hanna's still doing it 

Soon it will be time to swab my eyelashes again

Next time I'll circumnavigate the lake 

Prescription: spend two and a half hours hiking beside a river 

Make it a wide, slow, shining one 

31

 

This is it 

I think I'm so clever 

Don't fall back under the spell 

White high-top Hanes

A mug with a christmas tree on it 

On paper you are unsurveilled and unpoliced 

Do you remember what that feels like? 

Cosmic encounters 

A card with a baby on it 

An orange stroller filled with babies 

Beside them I am walking with the dog 

Vacuuming the bedroom rug, bottomless in a grey sweatshirt 

Hiking through the bare-branched woods, peeing off a rock in them 

Buzzard dives then perches, wings wide open 

The absence of black bars titillates 

I went through a phase where I didn't wear underwear

What was that like? 

It had its pros and cons

It kept me remembering my aliveness 

Fingers up a long black skirt 

On a dark stone bridge in Cordoba 

River sloshing 

Fuck off with your red lines 

Remember when you said you never got to 

It turned me on 

I folded

Cold moon

 

Stop overriding me

Confident enough not to 

Stained old comforter 

Palm leaves green on one side of the pane

Foggy bare limbs on the other side of the glass 

Still haven't bought curtains 

You are not privy to a lot of my dating life 

Kissed dozens and dozens 

Danced so many strangers pressed to the wall

A lifetime ago 

I don't track my life by a child's aging, but by my own 

Something has changed inside of me 

No longer willing this exposure 

I love you and 

Even without the past 

I cannot be treated this way 

Long bangs obscure my brows 

Like two eyelids squeezed against a sandstorm, I close up 

Tonight = an occultation 

Have I ever given myself to feeling like this before? 

Nine days pass, a zombie 

Wake up to find myself carrying conversation 

Quiet stream in the darkened passenger seat

I have a congenital defect

I used to think she could change them 

I did. But at great cost 

Time to hydrate my eyelashes 

I bought three bottles of wine for 42 dollars 

The cashier did not wish to speak 

Because I am rebuilding my legs hurt every day 

Making space for myself 

Pink mountain rising from the mist 

For two hours I remembered what it felt like to be dazzling 

Just a glint of it 

Earworm

 

This was delightful 

Roasted yams and turnips and chickpeas, gluten-free chocolate chip cookies, dark chocolate nonpareils, peppermint tea, a ball jar half filled with tap water 

Remnant of glial tissue 

I showed up as my thirty-five-year-old self and he liked me

The conversation we had is so different from the conversations I used to have

And also not

Perhaps the difference is not one of subject matter or tone but of groundedness and perspective 

And also I am reminded of talking to the beautiful Brazilian man on the streets of Cordoba, taking him into my mouth on the stairwell of a hostel in Madrid

Walking out of the water as he returned with the towels 

Sometimes I feel sad that I will never be able to go back, but I am also curious about where I am now and where I might be going, places I've never been 

I am so glad to have grown up in a time when smartphones and CCTV weren't ubiquitous 

The newspaper has a list of craft fairs online 

Don't go back to sleep

 

Dang, we haven't been listening to enough jams 

Remember when we'd walk for the best bubble tea in Queens 

Earthlings and aliens 

Hanna drinks from the water bowl in the bedroom 

I was ready to sleep before the music hit 

This one's about a werewolf and the crowd howls 

These are good vibes 

Half of the dead limb has detached and fallen from 40 feet up

The other half remains attached to the trunk of the chestnut oak, reaching--

Wish I hadn't been hurting during this summer's shows 

Am I your manic pixie dream girl? 

Feels like it's very cleansing 

That time I tried to party on crutches

Handing out capris and good vibes from the grassy hill above the sidewalk  

My goodness it's been a long time 

Ziplock of mushrooms in a Denver fanny pack 

I do not know, any more, what is reasonable or appropriate 

Remember shopping at Hannaford's and buying $5 pizzas 

Let's go back to the coast 

Barndoor farmers' markets 

Emailing late-summer love letters, legs draped over the arm of the chair 

Another time: weeping fighting on the beach 

I can take it 

We can turn it on both because we're afraid and because we are leaders

Trying to slip between the black and the white 

The tiny pumpkin sits beside the small picture

From here the tent looks like a mountain

I haven't forgotten 

Watched you consumed by texting in the chair on the darkened lawn

So many people are certain that they're right

Trying not to become one

 

All the sex I had in my twenties

Wish I knew then what I know now 

Not one for lobsters but I love wearing waders 

He shucked oysters by sunrise and fucked me at night 

Boot-dancing in a sundress at the upstairs bar in Maine 

First hand at rock climbing 

I'm so much less fearful now

I am such a fan of intergenerational music making 

I have recently received the worst haircut of my life 

I hope they do a summer tour 

It's a little better when it's pulled up. I have bangs again

I think I'm finally starting to get it 

Nordic skiing in the sleeting snow, fistfuls of ice to staunch my bleeding nose, dogs racing ahead, cheeks red and stinging 

I really loved living in Colorado  

Writing in that small wooden cabin in Wyoming 

Walking to the black-night outhouse in grizzly mountain territory 

Hiking alone into the middle of the river 

At times languid and urgent in my veins 

And I guess that's the main things about me 

June don't you dare forget how much you love to dance 

"I'm an orthopedic surgeon"

 

How does Powerball work

She busies herself with dressing the salad 

After ripping ivy from beneath the arbor vitae 

I have finished the gluten-free table crackers 

You can match the white ball numbers in any order of play 

My fingers are sore from inserting one hundred grommets into the bottoms of one hundred large plastic bowls

Pulling 50 metal carts out of the old sales building 

Weed-whacking around the sleigh 

I don't think we have a 45 

Something has ignited in me 

What's the opposite of the inverse

Outversion 

How to find out if you won Powerball 

The line in RoFo is lively 

Gas is cheaper in Maryland 

Didn't even know it was happening 

I miss reading the newspaper 

Understated music for dogs 

I don't think we won 

They take beautiful old wooden furniture and paint it ugly fake colors, only to them, presumably, the colors do not look ugly or fake. To their eye the color improves the pieces and to mine it ruins them 

Increasingly I am mindful of my limited vision 

Two goals: 

Close the gap between the stimuli and your authentic response (thank you Geena Davis) 

Stay tender-hearted and soften into kindness 

Because I am not on Instagram, I am unable to view the photos on Instagram 

I eat dried mango with chili flakes 

Soon enough I will finish the book I am reading 

I think it might be worth four bucks

Ask me then

 

Before I was 35 I would not have believed that sleeping in a soft bed after attending a show, comfortably removed from the seedy haze of post-show festivities, could be just as pleasurable and vitalizing as sleeping in the grass at the base of a tree somewhere on the venue's grounds. I would have thought anyone who said that had given up on life. From this vantage point, I see that in fact I am appreciating life in new and different ways, and the appreciation is no more stultifying merely because its locus has changed. In fact these days the life-giving force of a comfortable bed is both different and in many ways equitable to the vibrancy of sleeping drunk and buzzing under the stars 

This softened state

 

The upside of my back injury is that I have gradually and with much emotional toil become less concerned with my muscles

My arms are softer and I feel calm about it

A revelation

In fact I was thinking earlier how much I like thirty-something bodies, mine included 

They've been humbled, lived in. They know some things. They've encountered limitations and kept going. There's something so attractive about a body as it slows down, as it grows wiser. There's less pretending; it's less possible. They're softer. When you press into them, and you are also in a lived-in body, they squish together. They make room for each other 

For a little while there I mistook physical toughness for strength -- all the rock climbing and the mountaineering and the bike climbs and the backcountry skiing. And I was strong, and I'm grateful for it, and I'm glad to know I'm that capable. And also I think I am stronger now, in this softened state, than I had been for quite some time 

Pulling up his sandwich socks

 

At long last I have opened the Coloradoan wine, to little fanfare 

I have decided I will hold off on making the decision until after November and then after January and maybe after March 

I close the tab and welcome the cat onto my chest 

Give me a bed frame that lasts for decades 

Tired of disposability 

The small woodland animals brandish a flail, a sword, an axe 

I am not a father  

Teaching him how to look 

He snacks on me like crackers and cheese 

The gap is part of the meaning 

Promising myself I'll remember 

I don't want an Instagram face 

Drying off with a hand towel 

Some things stay the same 

I can say that I'm surprised 

I don't know what lesson I'm supposed to be learning here 

Some things I enjoy doing

 

Raking crunchy brown and orange and red and gold and yellow leaves

Potting up gorgeous plants in pretty pots and finding places for them to thrive inside my home

Interior design and decorating, surprisingly 

Snuggling with Hanna and Wilson 

Reading a good book in a hot bath 

Sitting up in a hot bath with arms by my sides and hands in the water, mind loose 

Ripping out the English ivy on the hill in the backyard--creeping tendrils lifting from shallow roots, dirt spraying 

Walking in the woods 

Spending time with people who are passionate about things about which I am also passionate

Listening to music, especially while driving or via the record player 

Singing, especially in the shower 

Playing (badly) the small keyboard in the front room 

Free writing while sipping a glass of red wine 

Sitting on a chair on the front porch, birdwatching and squirrelwatching and chipmunkwatching 

Seeing people I love feel happy

Gazing over alpine lakes after hiking a long while to get there 

Meditating 

Running my hands through dried beans in large, open-mouthed, burlap bags

Reading gardening magazines 

Fires in the fireplace during the cold, dark days of winter 

Making dinner with and for friends, then eating it together 

Running around the yard with Hanna 

Wildlife sightings 

Shearing Christmas trees

Chatting with my neighbors 

Talking to my sister on the phone 

Snuggling my friends' babies 

Playing and exchanging gifs with my nephew 

Laughing 

Eating almond butter out of the jar with a spoon 

Dipping raw cauliflower in hummus 

Teaching 

Envisioning 

Riding my bike 

By the property of transmutation

 

Is it a matter of decorum? 

No, only the fear of its rules 

Step one is complete  

 

Noticing myself: less willing to share right now 

Noticing: memories closer to the surface 

Leitmotif rising 

 

shame and drugs and alcohol and whatever

 

One wrong snip takes me back to age 12 

Outsides align with in

You tell her: the Universe is still doing it 

We are here in Massachusetts

 

Yes I do have a fork preference 

We are at the ninth out of ten 

Stretching my back on the living room rug

Steadfast companion 

The top shelf is our most spacious offering 

If I google Roy Rogers will I learn horrible things

Unlearning hegemony as bildungsroman 

I used to live in Boston 

Twin-size inflated on the wooden floor 

Milk crates for a closet 

Plastic folding table as desk 

For nearly twenty years I lived in seven hundred square feet or, most often, much fewer 

I used to ride the subway alone at night

Amtrak to New York a couple times a month 

Sleeping alone in the backseat in Wyoming, alone in the backseat in Black Canyon 

Old hat, eventually 

She asks, Did you feel safe? 

Cat calls during every walking commute

You got your boots on 

Every run 

A little kid crossing the road alone for her first time 

A teenager in Kohl's 

A child on a field trip

A young woman in a new city alone 

A young woman traveling across Spain alone 

A young woman riding the subway alone 

Honey you don't have to say it 

Fuck! 

Yeah, I said, I felt pretty safe

When I called him to Somerville he would come

Mono from the afterparty 

Sock on the door handle

Then there's the whole friend issue 

Loon painting and sounds 

Yellow bowl on the coffee table 

I bypass the water softener to water the plants 

I can finish this living room in four steps: change out the rug, buy the blue chair, hang some art (the loons? the buffalo?) over the blue chair, frame the octopus 

How can I defend it. Physical therapy has cost me fifteen hundred dollars 

Metal basket filled with gardening magazines 

The man at the yard sale almost didn't believe me 

I am so laden as I come into this place 

My goal is for every item in my home, or as close as I can get to it, to have a story 

I buy all my groceries at the grocery outlet

 

 

There I go novelty-seeking again 

Like a generic spa experience

I wonder if I still smell the same 

Ovular beige pumpkin on the solid wood side table

Did he not get to think about it beforehand? 

Pronounce my a's funny 

Writing cursive at four years old

Closest thing to destiny 

The spice girls have arrived 

Can I have just a little spread of this? 

In the morning: hips to hips under warm under flannel sheets 

Inflatable monsters bob from the lit-up lawn 

Guilty 

Guilty 

Pumpkin spice yogurt? That is gonna be so good 

Cute round baby face

All those fresh smiles 

If I had to answer I'd say my accent color is mustard gold 

Can you believe that? 

Come on peperomia you can do it 

I have planted the hazelnut and the poppy, a flowering dogwood, another arrowwood and a compact viburnum 

What's left: a red bud, a black gum, a final arrowwood 

I attempted the black gum but kept hitting hickory roots 

Succession is tenuous 

I can't find the salt anywhere

From remnants of the group Opal 

We already did it so we just gotta forge ahead 

Just got some brownies in the oven 

Can you flick off that overhead? 

We can totally move on 

Smoking flowers in the shower 

Having a house is stressful and expensive and fun 

I have never had this chance before

Walking Hanna in the rain 

Feathered crossing guard: one wild turkey ushers the other seven across the road 

Remember when we saw that pheasant with all the baby pheasants? 

You guys are the freaking cutest and the sweetest and the coolest and the absolute best 

Can you turn off that overhead? 

It just slayed me 

That's why we shop local 

just about sulfates-free

 

That is literally the smallest load of laundry I've ever done in my life 

At the laundromat in Maine. At the laundromat in Queens. At the laundromat in a small dusty town in the Rockies.

In order to remove part of the rambling rose I slashed my wrists to bleeding

Thorns in my fingers

We saw an elder bridge 

Bull in a glass shop 

Mirror ears 

Dried noodles in clear plastic canisters 

Goes as fast as it comes 

At the farm we strung tarps and assembled the metal pins

Two weeks ago we sheared hundreds of trees

In two weeks we will string the baler pad with lights 

Blood swelling under pinched skin

Put off by in crowds

Drive home and feast on arepas, fried plantain, Brussel sprouts, yucca  

Still can't get over that ottoman 

It's a cool thing that you get to do here 

I eye the chocolate for gluten 

Colorado, it was ego-pride. As if mere location made me better

Pennsylvania, it's fierce-pride. As if I've been told not to love myself and I do 

You can't catch a lightning bug's light 

Tires nearly bald 

Helpful stranger in the Rutter's parking lot 

Two dogs rolling and pissing and digging and running 

Hanna is learning to set boundaries 

Big for her britches, then the middle 

I got big for my britches

Thigh muscles swelling my running tights 

Then the injury 

Now the return to lankiness, stronger this time 

Whoa there, I got scared for a minute

Nowhere else to be but in the present moment 

A sudden craving for mango 

Seeing him that happy made me so happy

My heart swelled 

You're the only person on earth I want to do labor for 

Creative Outlet

That ottoman's got me coming 

Brown vinyl looks so good with the golden pillow and the oatmeal chair 

I don't think we should get up before 8 

Eating dried mango on the gray couch with Hanna 

Later this morning we'll go to the farm 

Everything is a made up construct that doesn't actually mean anything  

Talking the truth is hard 

I don't feel complicated about whether it's good or bad or neutral

Everything is all of it 

Biking the perimeter of the golf course 

Trail running alone 

Talking in the dark 

Wanting that blue reading chair so badly 

I don't know if I'm allowed to have anything nice

For so long it wasn't a question

Living out of tents, mousey cabins, then the trunk of my car and a couch in a falling-down house

So many small spaces 

I bought a house 

Every penny I worked for it 

It's golden alright 

The work before me is learning what it takes to give myself permission to buy the blue chair

More than a year now of yearning

More than a decade of yearning

Have I always been yearning 

The horse raises its head on thick chocolate neck and whinnies 

I have to accept that life has changed me

Bumblebee jasper

 

The extension and the silence

We know how this works

Clockwork 

Morning snuggles on the mattress

Nine pounds of rumbling orange fur draped across my torso

Sixty-six solid pounds of dirty dog pressed to my legs, lightly snoring

This is new: he can look me in the eyes

On our sides in lamplight 

Afterward we ate scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns on the couch 

They have won another game 

I wish he would read me

There's the tenderness 

Sweatshirts on the grey chair in disarray 

White egrets melting into rain 

You've kept me company in this place 

What's in the large paper bag on top of the dresser 

The swimsuit hangs from the door handle, unused since August - Adirondack hot tub

Adulthood is feeling behind all the time 

Losing ourselves, mowing the lawn, and feeding the dog on time 

I miss biking through the farmlands

Miss my mountain climbs, water soundtrack 

Miss my sister and my brother

It's Hanna's birthday soon 

Without a shift, it's probably time to let go 

I drink coffee every morning now 

Maybe it's been me all along 

When did it get to be late October 

For so long I had a story about my life

 

Anger gets to me 

I rise and head for the guest room 

still can't stop clenching 

It's starting to come to me 

head tilted back on the edge of the bed 

everyone said it catches up to you eventually 

I was running very fast and very far 

I got so tired 

Back halved 

Body shiv-shiv-shivering 

Hanna warm on foot 

He was mad about the bacon 

We saw things from a different angle 

Oh it was so bad

I didn't know how to begin to tell you 

Maybe you're an island I escape to

Broad shoulders now 

He's really trying to love you 

Is any of it enough 

Maybe I got what I wanted at the time, even if it wasn't good for me

Knees spread wide on the edge of the bed 

Maybe now I am getting what I want

Is it the presence or the past 

Looking at the swirling black light 

That part of me is real, a hurt dog squealing in the back of the cage 

That part of me is real, snarling  

That part of me is real, crying as fingers draw lightly across my back 

Family is not a safe word 

For so long I had a story about my life that didn't involve the drinking, head bashed against walls, shirts ripped, head twisted, back slammed into stones 

I carried cavernous suitcases alone 

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry 

Like making people laugh 

KB intimates humor is a defense mechanism 

Queens street with the obnoxious security cams 

Palm slammed to blue hood 

Heavy metal in the park 

I once bought my produce at a bodega 

Okay okay you can do this 

All people are change 

You go or you grip 

I am here with you now 

brave girl 

land the plane 

I was younger once

 

Jeff Bezos invited Pete to go to outer space 

Do you regret me  

I have not been invited to take a photo in front of the Champions' Circle 

I have tried just about everything to get rid of this hip pain 

I have felled the Norway maple 

Planted the witch hazel 

Repotted the bird's nest fern

 

It's my first Prada show; it's her first Prada show 

Wilson is too cute for words 

Lunchtime run in the sunshine 

A long five months later I can move again 

Thank goodness 

wide sheep eye 

foraging is the new black 

we've been talking about this for years

Green straw stirring iced tea 

The gas light just came on 

I bought a green smoothie because there wasn't time to make lunch 

I got a frightening email and did jumping jacks for a while  

Can't stop clenching

Wegman's carded me despite the wide, white streaks in my hair 

 

 

The cucumbers are calling my name  

In the dark pressing backwards 

So good I cried

 

It made me fall in love with, like, passion

Tomorrow I will work in the yard, maybe go for a hike, return to the horse show 

Just because physical therapy didn't cure you this time doesn't mean it won't work for you in the future 

 

 

Zizia aurea

 

 Maybe I'm an idiot  

There has to be a balance

Stay in the new moment 

I've coined a new term

These roads in spring and fall

I mean that's the thrust of it 

tongues water from the large silver bowl

c catharsis 

c and crying 

c backwards 

on my knees in the kitchen 

under the dusty globe lights 

I think it's really gonna catch on 

Why can't I take good care of myself? Who says?

I don't need permission 

Maybe it's a foil 

the wanting and not having 

witch hazel sprouts yellow tufted flowers in winter 

imagine. yellow flowering in the snow 

Please tell everyone I love them 

I'm really glad you came back 

A very angry son of a god

 

I know Cratos

He's not really a good guy 

Stay close 

I forgot how much I love this 

One of the best parts of myself 

I am building my dreams brick by brick 

The small child looses an arrow

The dragon lord strikes back 

The muscular man with the large axe swings and swings and swings 

Get down boy 

Do more things that bring that out of you 

I don't think I'm adequately appreciating what a difference it makes to have some fucking space 

I only deleted it because I have a plan 

Tomorrow I will go with some new friends to a lush meadow and gather indigenous seeds 

He is sporting the tunic of hope 

I have lived a very rich life and I'm grateful 

separate labels by commas

Oh good! Thanks you  

 

What a world

After accidentally leaving the contractor bag filled with two beige cushions corresponding to the pretty free chairs outside in the rain for several weeks and several rainfalls, I discovered the bag behind the mulch pile in the driveway, shook the sodden cushions from it, and encountered quite a lot of multicolored mold. Unsalvageable. Therefore I have purchased two new, custom, wool chair cushions from a kindly man in Ukraine. The transaction cost me far less than if I had purchased the set of chairs new, or even a single one of the chairs or a part of it. For the price of two cushions made by a kindly man in Ukraine, I could have purchased one part of one leg of a new, four-legged chair

Always get me writing again

This is not a coincidence 

I will not be embarrassed

I am trying not to be embarrassed 

I detect a whiff of self-regard

My ego has been humbled 

Miss going for walks on the green streets with the old houses and the stone walls 

Miss palm to palm  

Miss the mountains, always, another ache another companion 

Wish I could talk to you 

Keep it sacrosanct 

The trail creeps under the highway via culvert 

I am no longer a cool girl 

I'm still startled by growing up 

Wall hung with wildflowers 

What is the thought behind the thought? 

Fuck. I've nearly finished the crosswords  

 

working on it

 

 

Fetch the handsaw. There's a sapling needs cutting

 

Little bird pecking at the window screen 

The tiny flag planted in the dirt beside the slightly less tiny peperomia: 

Not Hardy

 

 

When did I turn into a coward? 

I guess I shouldn't have left the windows open 

It's getting cold

I have sunk six more woody trees and shrubs into the ground 

Three fast-growing ground covers 

Dozens of perennials 

After I have sawed down the Norway Maple, planted six more trees, tidied up the veggie beds, pulled the ivy, and addressed the compost situation, I will rest 

Well, not really. Next it's sales season 

Stand to full height so the high school boys take me serious 

Talk low and undeterred 

I'm not fucking around

They bought me an electric chainsaw

 

Before you know it I'll be back in the Adirondacks again 

I'll ski my way into the new year 

 

 

Did I mention I've been thinking of you this whole time? 

Stop me if you're tired of hearing it 

Not knowing is really hard 

 

Officially: the bird bath has a hole in it 

Doing yoga with the lights on 

So grateful to bend again 

It always comes down to the birds

 

Fall is foliaging 

Showering with coconut shampoo 

Red flannel pajama pants 

Hanna says it's dinner time 

Well, she paws it

fall foliage hike

 

wonders never cease 

Nine

 

Migraines for days

A thing that makes writing more comfortable than life is the backspace is always one fingertip away 

Did I, with you? 

I can't help myself from squirming 

A lot of people I've loved I don't talk to any more 

Hold on, past 

The wildflowers are mushrooming 

I remembered three nights ago a time when I was starving 

be nice rainbow on a faux leather string

 

I can't take any more in

Have you noticed? 

I can't do vodka shots any more 

All the worrying and the stress hormones 

All the motherfucking emails 

Rhizomatic notifications 

Meeting invites 

I call it off and go outside

Four out of twelve: 

dogwood, nannyberry, witch hazel, arrowwood 

Learning a new language 

So far on this land I have planted hundreds of native plants (and some parsley) 

Shoveled and wheelbarrowed nine truck scoops of wood chips alone 

Ripped cardboard til my arms shook, adhesives coating my hands 

Dozens of 

green-breathing plants 

in my home 

The bumblebees are coming 

Cute little friends 

The first I've had one 

Breathy 

Quiet 

Life is better at the lake 

Feels so good 

On my back on the red couch 

My breasts are okay.  

The green starry plant, once so leggy and straining, gets the sun it needs and relaxes into itself

Your body is processing so much 

If you come over I'll ask you which room is most like me 

I haven't heard you make that sound before

 

In lieu of the cabin I drive two hours north and climb a small, old mountain in the woods 

Feels good to propel myself uphill

Highbush blueberry magenta in fall 

Yellow-orange tapestry draped over gullies, around scree fields 

Black striations curve through glacial rock 

Up here there is no stiltgrass or mile-a-minute

The forest breathes easier 

The sports fans keep checking the scores

The fantasy is engulfed in vines 

Finally I am reading again

The drill points arrestingly from the top of the dresser 

Crying out orgasms on the basement couch 

I'll take one schnoodle to go, please

Be advised of drone restrictions and the general firewood quarantine 

I don't know how to release this hurt 

I will always know how you were willing to treat me

Of course, I'm no angel 

I drove all day. All day I was droving. 

Nicknames for Wilson (Part V)

 

Bug

Buggy 

Buggy boy 

Little bug

Little man 

Booger butt

Willie boy 

Willie bug 

Willie bobilly 

Cutie mctootie 

Sweetie mcsweetums 

My cutie patoot  

My favorite little man 

My favorite little guy 

alone o ye enola

 

His foot was trodden on 

sitting at the kitchen island eating blue corn tortilla chips and jarred salsa 

three times in twelve hours

a marble throne 

I said: it's the vacillations that get to me 

I get tripped up right out of the gate 

That's the question, isn't it 

back when I had spirit guides 

my self feels stretched between two places at once

which way will the body fly when its insides snap 

picture a torso ripped in half 

maybe my heart is breaking, or maybe my back 

maybe I'm trying to get back at them 

maybe I'm taking advantage

keep doing the yoga 

He had his chance. He went for power 

oh heyyyyy 

write now

 

Watermelon and pilea, fraternal twins 

A blue pot and a dark red one 

Reminder to ground 

 

Buzzed head dyke -- I kinda see it -- 

Granting myself permission 

 

Queerness is sacrosanct 

I am coming out at the worst possible time

 

The pink daisies persist 

Twenty days older 

 

On the morning of our wedding, 

 it's bittersweet. I'm proud of myself for getting here 

 

What if I made a mistake. What if I bite off my own fingers.  

We bought out all the sunflowers at central market. 

 

 

Remember that you need time to rest 

which is probably for the better

 

 

 

I cannot bring myself to kill the carpenter ant as it traverses the beige rug

 

It is not because the rug is beige and a smashed ant might discolor it. It is not because I am unaware of the potential damage to the wooden structure of my home should more carpenter ants move into it—though, in truth, my knowledge is secondhand and not necessarily accurate. It is not because I am squeamish (though I am, sometimes, that). It is because the ant is alive. Who am I to end a life?

Can I say something

 

How about something else?

And another thing 

Whelp

He is drawing an octopus with colored pencils 

Once a man penned a palm holding a flower, black inked and beautiful on painted yellow. 

We sat open locked eyes and shared for sixty minutes.

We drank so much water so fast we got high. 

He was very kind and open-hearted and I never talked to him again. 

Once a friend got quiet during my favorite verse so I could sing it. 

The ocean lapped the sand and we laid in the open trunk of a beige Subaru. 

I lived on his couch for six weeks and made $97 working part-time at a pizza shop. 

Once I snapped my ankle and hopped or strapped my arms round his chest for six miles out of the backcountry, body torn up for months. 

Once we climbed a mountain on snowshoes. 

We moved to Queens and the kindly men sitting on the dirty sidewalk outside the hookah bar helped unload our Uhaul. 

Once I moved to Washington, D.C. alone and lived with an uptight woman who displayed Bob Marley paraphernalia all over her house and car, a green VW bug. 

I've been Loki for nearly seven years. 

What'd you think of Moonstruck? 

I really appreciated it for being a really interesting storyline and script and plot. 

I don't know if I liked it. 

It was weird. 

There are three different little trays there. 

Not octopus. Jellyfish

What are the parts in between the choruses again? 

If I want to become a farmer goddamnit I can do it. 

Just some cool stuff

I have one or two links for you. 

Some organic gardening supplies and resources, some funky seeds

I haven't been alone in so long 

Let me finish this load of dishes 

Let me help your life makes sense, thirty-five years late

Didn't you know there was something wrong with you 

A cutting board clanks inside the sink 

Do I remember how to say yes 

2,100 trees later I'm really doing it 

There is a flotilla of twigs above the dam 

Hanna wades in the creek smiling 

Let me go, I dare ya 

We can do it tomorrow night 

I have buzzed the side of my head and I love it 

More more more 

I am as cool as I aspire to be 

I got us 800 dollars in cash 

Hanna's such a goober 

The soil in the planter has frozen 

I'll tell you more about 'em tomorrow.