time is the ultimate buzzkill
but when hungry, eat —
chop chop!

do I need to take a ray gun safety class before acquiring a ray gun?
hard to believe gravity exists…
I just realized I talk with my hands a lot.

no more weird dating ads about *** and mood disorders:
deep breathing and it will work out;
not my circus, not my monkeys.

i am a poet learning to be a poet; this could get complicated.
feel like I'm in a weird dream, memory triggering, lightning bugs!

sometimes after a long day I step out of the shower and sit dripping,
looking at myself in the mirror, cloud formation erotica, open lines:
it's quintessential me through a bizarre looking glass; apparently
there is such a thing as self-compassion.

i've had a thing for owls lately, must be the millennial ennui.

teach me to whistle -
i just like the way it sounds

petite build, rugged, compact
taking up no more space than necessary:
    
     stainless steel coffee mug
     snow pony tail, plain sweatshirt
     jeans, John Lennon’s round specs

sitting opposite me every day at the Peace Tree Café
middle of nowhere Southern Utah, the two of us
the most regular of regulars.

weekends selling flotsam outside Jim’s Trading Post,
scrounging the property taxes on his plot of pinyon pine.
i'd keep him company, consider each item
with solemn regard, unsure whether I was holding
a tractor part or a rusty time machine.

what’s this do, Peewee?
you should really keep this saw.
how much for these earrings?

gone now:

i wear his dead wife’s Celtic earrings
and think of us drinking coffee
laughing wildly, scaring the tourists.