because everything destroys

a man came into the coffeeshop

and I force-smiled at him as I gave him his coffee

and he said, What a great smile!

  and I was uncertain

  was he serious?

  did he not see my almost-cry?

and then he said, You must be having a great day.

before he left he told me that my smile was the best part of the whole experience

  and I wanted to punch his face off

a trio came into the coffeeshop

a massive stroke-victim in a wheelchair

  asking question after question

  his dainty, birdlike hand turned awkwardly on his knee 

  he sort of demands an avocado sandwich, which we don't have

  and as he's asking questions, an uncertain woman comes to the counter

  so I take her order

while she's ordering, the child with the wheelchaired man

  interrupts to ask if we have banana bread

  and we don't

I tell her to hold on.

  while I'm helping the other woman,

a man with a thick german accent pushes up to the counter

  and asks if the pork sandwich 

  is served hot.

I have to tell him to hold on.

I have to ask all of these people to stop interrupting each other

  and the man in the wheelchair makes me want to cry

  because his left side is so soft, saggy, delicate

  and he is so demanding & angry.

I wonder, would I be, too

  I am going on a very long vacation starting now

I have no idea to where

  or when I will be back

   or if

    bc we're 28 yrs old still

     & I'm not too curious

still the same year in here

A new house, same creatures surrounding. A new season; last it was creeping around and out of the winter, and here we are, creeping into it. The windowsill is adorned with the jokes of the forced natural past; we've the plasticmade dreamcatcher, beaded, feathered & chimed; an avocado, ripening in its avocadant opportunity; little puffed leaves of all the succulents, the dying jade from chicago, the spiny triplets from boise, the tall, pencil cactus from new york; half a geode; an ancient pinecone snatched from cabin; shells, corals, and other seaside accoutrement; a tin animal-covered box from the third grade.

The table, too, with its copious corns. Plentiful horns. 

But the finalizing of college, the escape, and the duties held. By the end of to-day I will have made the right impressions.

I make feeling in that mindset

prettylittle 80 - 82

I make feeling of the brain. Most recently low-growing, the mixture of that sun and me without trying, simply. The avocado’s point of view is a little frolicky. Belonging to the primrose those strong legs of his. I’m a magnet for choking the mind outright.

I’m not family; I didn’t like this like that. Making love, having tuberous rootstocks and nodding strong legs. I’ve been complemented often. A self promoting deprivation. In the alps with deer, white, purple, pink, I see. My ability to create such a young and early death. And berries, unfortunately, crimson flowers with reflexed petals, can get pretty intimacy only just awhile. In that mindset.

Describing expectantly comfort with strangers, a life donated to my abilities. A circular boat so I can find severe athleticism. Here I am, viewed from inside.