the universe is trying to tell me

to have a happy birthday,
what does the universe tell you?

there's this awful person
she's my mother's realtor
she wears a visor and a vest and has a lexus mini suv, but this isn't what makes her a bad person

we were reading about her type in this self-help book at the cabin, The Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships

she's a Blamer

I knew she'd try to make me cry

but I just feel a wind at me to get me going now

like all of everything & everyone I know here is pushing me gently to an edge

and I'm supposed to fall crash fly whatever

but what the fuck ever

hey

I'll never be pretty again

hey

I'll have the best bursts

hey

I can explain it all

GTFOOH 

   byedaho

mine sky is falling

...it will end, but not this second. they remain! & I thought all day, what next will I do? I'll have to start to try. It'll start to try on me. all the anxiety at where will you go & are you gone? & then the popmusic station plays the right track, and I am right on track towards home, and then I see the familiar whip and finally I let a tear fall, in thankyou, in why oh why. & the smiling faces of my familiars, my little sweets still here. How lucky to have it still. I won't be worried anxious again until tomorrow, it means. one more night of longhair, of beards, of feasts. of warm thick shoulders. no one ever reads me, & if you did I'd tell you the same, anyhow. just glad you get to be together, again. to have your thick shoulders to hold with one another, again. & how I wish I could be sandwiched between all of the world's thick shoulders and locks and beautiful, varicolored beards.

until tomorrow, & the crash of the smokyblue idaho sky on mine wet old face.