you moved to Maine to become one with nature I am asking you move back
I see the cascade coming over Portland the negative winters to film the reels
of our silence peeled over our head clouds I took you to the dance party
in Columbus you asked about but hours after I made the mashed potatoes
for Geoff’s poetry potluck instead of getting clockwork drunk on Christmas
Ales somehow I believe there was an allegory in the nature of it the past-
midnight pizza dripping off the paperwhite plate at the edge of the bed
—
Awkwardness Is a Two-Way Street
When you leave a conversation,
crinkled bits of aluminum
foil lodged in your heart,
know the other converser
had trouble ripping clean
the sheet with perforated cutter.
Living in a bubble
is not the way. The wand
that forms the bubble
out of another’s breath–
when it pops,
we both fall.
Cacti Fur 