the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

-.7.18

One ant keeps climbing

Up my bare leg as I sit

On this old airport

Grass grows as high as

Childrens’ eyes, or mine, looking

Out from this blanket

From a spot I could

Simply not have sat it was

Impossible some

Years before, this here

Was forbidden to me, was

Private, in conflict,

Occupied. I was

Not allowed, though now its so

Simple, natural.

As natural as

These wild flowers blooming next

To sun bleached grasses

As natural as

This ant crossing onto my

Blanket, up my legs.

recorded 4.7.18