The dinner hour begins to loom
before me in the evening gloom.
I think of bangers with some mash
and I consider corned beef hash.
I search the shelves, I pace the floor,
I start to head out to the store.
But in a flash I think “Door Dash!”
and check my hidden shoebox stash
‘cause on delivery I’ll pay cash.
I breathe a sigh and grab my phone,
and settle in to eat alone.
i know you walked into that store
thirsty
instead
you were marked in their eyes
by your Brown skin
i saw you
open the door to the cooler
hesitate
and
put the water bottles
back
one by one by one by one
maybe
you felt her glare piercing
or
perhaps your knowing told you to
leave
i saw you trust it
but
they did not trust you
now
your body lies cold in the ground
i hope they buried you near the water
you left
thirsty
you died
Black
and now your mother’s tears
water
freshly turned earth
i need you
to be something
you’re not
i need you
to check
off all the boxes
in my head
i need you
to dot the i’s
and cross
the t’s
of my dreams
Clean the feeder
Mix the formula
1 part pure cane sugar
4 parts filtered water
pour it in
hang it up
fill ant moat with water
I saw my first hummers
in early April
Travelers – thin and skiddish
took a quick sip, then headed out
It is now time for the regulars
the locals
who build nests
raise young
They waste valuable energy
fighting complex aerial battles
for a spot to feed
even though there is another
feeder just a few feet away
to be ____ is to be devastated
by family
and lovers
and on the rare occasion
well meaning friends.
to be devastated is feeling
safe until a rug is
pulled away with a flourish
that looks like care
to feel safe is an illusion
concocted by thoughts
like;
they are the exception
everyone else thinks this, but
surely they don’t
until you learn they do
and always have
an illusion is thinking you
could ever be anything but
the ____ friend.
Stay in your ___ box
don’t come out ‘til you’re better
a wedding party thunders above
while the piano man plays
atop the sound gliding like
a boat across a glass flat lake
said he studied for only a year
a woman and the bartender
struggle with digital wallets
swearing she wants to leave a tip
for all the wine she’s been drinking
behind, a man speaks loudly
with the bravado of someone afraid
that if they go quiet
they’ll be forgotten
we’re given a tour of the kitchen
drinks in hand
as we pick out what we want
for snacks
eating like royalty
of fruits, meats, and cheeses
a single night
we are not Mom and Dad
not a ride to the next concert
not a shoe tie and a lost sock
not the heartbreak of seeing them
grown and helpless with the way
things are turning sour
for a single night
the world is not ending
our identities twirl and mingle
collect into an
Old Fashioned and a Lemon Drop
that night
we owned the place
and I’m not sorry
Starla steers my hand to her belly,
her ten-and-two paws pressing palm to soft fur
her rich motor, winding up through
loose tendons and tight bones
her purr and my pulse, the unit measures of
a roadmap guiding me
back&back&back
home
