tight/rope

I like how fear shapes itself
the moment before thought 
startling inching shaking
me alive

In the throb of this time
so borderless and so big
bruising every impulse 
to be here

I have no plans to move

for history when undressed

is plain macabre 

I can recite everything I find

and lose myself  

in my stammered translation 

maps lose detail

some time leads to nowhere

poems get shorter

----------------------------------------------------

The Fall 2021 Jaggery issue went live today--I'd forgotten the pull quotes and had to scramble to get them done; I finished sending out the last of the NWSA mentoring emails; handed off SAWNET moderation to the October moderator; completed part one of the women's house orientation; started planning the honor society induction; finalized grades on the first paper; committee meetings; committee meetings; committee meetings; started a sabbatical review for a non college colleague; started tenure observations for a college colleague; picked up my laptop post repair. Dinner was leftovers.

disappearance

you know something/ I don't
the turn into spring, into fall 
a new war... an old messiah 
the budding preceding it all

I try to remind you of love 
in the face of opening loss
we know life keeps taking 

uprooting even... thoughts

the trip comes for us

(for L.B.)

by the time my thoughts arrive

helloes and hugs have played

our homophony

these trees nod their approval

and bird guardians sing 

of missing you, friend

Really, we could have climbed 

mountains today, survived 

whispered catastrophe

colonizing futures, monopolizing 

resolutions, our airy gestures 

perfect as finger-paintings

_______

Hike with L in Baker Woods after ages! I was catastrophizing, L was decoding and problem-solving. We mostly talked about changes to Big A's contract and how he may be working in Texas for a few months. I was actually so excited when he first told me because I have fond memories of visiting my Chelli in San Antonio, but soon realized he'd be going because it's a Covid hotspot right now... and...

placebo

the ceremony of each day grows hostile 
like a needle in my veins 
going under the shape of my resistance
and landscapes of hunger

I've been told to take each day at a time 
I abandon months in a gulp 
but the best minutes become sustenance
still so modest, but medicinal

swaha

clouds thick as suspended hopes
flame singing without words
where do we go from here
friend, there's only now

remember the last time we were 

here, you asked if I had always 

known about sacrifice--

it's how we survived 

this fire I built inside my head 

tenderly lifting all the love

and dread I have tended 

to replay, "let go"

moving to the future

my arms are crossed behind your back
my fingers are too
as though we're raising a stout hammer 
to a sickle moon

I can only watch through this rapid door 

the holiness of 

infancy, childhood, school's odd certitude

and uncertain youth 

your smile now a secret scroll of prophecy 

close to breaking

lashed in ritual errancy and exhortation to 

a city of last resort

and your keys to a kingdom of possibility

yet you share, sweet child--

as you unbar our door to swing open yours--

so warmly, a spare set

so it's universal

new nothings are of the highest order
metaphor is a dark mass of wire
feel the kiss of prepositions
--they're infinite

we inhale before the contented sigh
and embrace like we're a whole
orbit full of revelations,
even in rearview 

a little me

I suppose it's my job to be touched everyday
by offers of trust--gaudy and gauche 
these insights dawning
inexorable as day

I know how it settles into the bulk of today
teaching me to become yet an-other 
grownup as I already am
inaccurate as yesterday

chatter

the length of our conversation tells in years 
origins of jokes, quarrels, and empathy

reflecting back, blinking back

the image of us making our way into a future

it's a test--and if you ask me, of course 

I'll tell--I'll tell you everything

-------------------------------------------

A day remarkable for the amount of work and the number of things I got off the pending to-do lists. 

It was also the day of our Ganesha Search. I had to work on Ganesh Chaturthi, which was last week, so today the kids and I did the annual tour of all the Ganeshas in the house (several in each room) to clean and decorate with kumkum and kalanchoe. The kalanchoe isn't traditional, but fit some of the tiny Ganeshas perfectly. 

Also a day when we had some tough conversations with two different roofers--none of our work-arounds will actually... work and it's going to cost many times what we'd anticipated or saved for. UGH.  

And then a spectacular late-afternoon breakdown when Big A used the "D word" and the "C word" to describe and discuss Scout's sudden hobbling slowness and lethargy. The kids asked tentatively over dinner what it had been about and were naturally very dispirited... so Big A began clowning. 

Pic: Radiology Gardens from this weekend. I love their reflection pool.

classroom

amidst the dusty chalk of discussion

our figures gesture like talk 

ache with attachment

there is teaching in the (back)ground
find it in the sprawling grassroots 

reaching up from dispute

the walking cure

(for K.B.)

We haven't seen each other in weeks

we're to go on a walk

I expected a ladylike turn on campus

but here you are 

in sneakers, leading an active puppy 

so we end up 

wending our way to Luce Road where

we remember

how our current high schoolers were tiny

preschoolers

whose peanut allergies then seemed 

to riddle absence--

are now surviving, becoming new people

with "hot dates"

imagining themselves un-endangered 

have new names 

in today's succulence, there is rain

but also umbrellas

there are mosquito bites that bead 

my arms like biceps 

words hang between us like roots

seeking new growth

you guide each signal that tumbles out 

kindly, grace-fully

we're filling out equations of sympathy 

on each side  

even in all that happens to interrupt us

because somehow

it seems, you believe in my goodness

as I trust in yours--

oh, how are we such miracles, friend--

finding us in this world

Pic: KB, W, and bike-path friends in Alma.

sonnet on a commute

the road is a ribbon feeding on itself 

a dream snake

the car is an empty room but for me

the sun glares back 

sultry beyond windows and stealthy  

in the soupy day

I'm wondering if radios will play on 

at the end of the world

as I watch my future burning like fuel 

past lonely road kill

the road keeps coming, a stream of poison

being sucked out of me

my family knows my day from my absence

I pick up the distance and go 

farewell summer 2021

This summer had teeth like mosquitoes 
flush with hail and all-day rain

I wave goodbye to this 

all summer long, the heavy air settled

into my narrow body, caught me 

out of breath every time 

a decrescendo of repeat, mute, rewind

until my mind is white noise

my heart half silence

and my hands sail safely to my sides

opening, undone--bones plummet

in percussive emphasis

another day

why am I here bitten, forgotten 

arraigning a legacy of crazy

with remembrances

where my body and yours are

flattened by blank screens

and seen everywhere

why am I here, I wish you 

well, wish you could

just tell me

what will I not hear, this time--

more problems, every time--

no problem

I say--but there were always 

problems and prizes--

with surprises

I find myself falling

I have tried falling down
the way you used to 
whole flights at a time

it's impractical

how it now reminds me 

of my grandfather

atoning what he'd done

--it's typical

what you did for laughs

he did because 

he'd left mother crying

made invisible

all the mislaid expiations

in search of love

where we are, the border

of admissible 

Pic: I turned in some stuff in on... Submittable. Ha.

the opposite of down is really long

remind me to take a step back
take in the silver habit 
of a grey day

pacing love and dissent, weaving
every day the excitement 

of reunion  

days we laughed, we sometimes

wept--from stories we heard

around radios

life feels so small it's basically 

one tunnel--just one that 

runs forever

Pic and notes: Early morning walk with Big A, Huck, and Scout. Grey day--busy all the way through and no good news at home (roofer canceled, Covid rises) or abroad. We were almost devoured by mosquitoes. 

overhearing

reaching in the way of breath
souls out as though flying

starting as newness does

language bends us to light
tethered to our affections
pointed as our engines 

it's crowded in the big sky,

friends--we have: planes, 

birds, satellites, choices

when it's so hard to listen 

what shall we do, indeed

for our use... for our ease

Pic: Late summer garden

the present

1. 

Thirteen years of this same name 

with a few million different versions 

to use in love, jokes, threats, loving

2. 

When they decide for a new name

another parent tells me that a name 

is like a present, no one has to like it 

3. 

just because you gave it to them...

They know what's best for them, they

get to decide if they want a new name.

4. 

Then they do decide for a new name--

You know this name's unisex, right?

But--it still fits wrong, they say. So

5. 

when they decided for a new name, I

find I'm delighted to have an excuse 

to look at lists of baby names again

6. 

With their new name, we learned they

can ask teachers to use the new one

but can't officially change it at school--

7. 

that's another year with the same name

...but people ask us how to pronounce it

(because both names are from Sanskrit)

8. 

we're tricksters this first year with the new 

name: just tell them the old name is said

like the name you picked, I say. I'm loved

9. 

more in this first year with their new name 

it's like they spread their prayers like wings

these are small things, but they can fly now

10. 

When they decided on this new name, I...

was really relieved the new name began

kind of same way that their old one did--

11. 

so in this first year with the new name--

I can catch myself before I land wrong. 

Doesn't Elliot Page have a name like that?

12. 

I don't even remember--they're saying--

what it was, they're in the present; I'm 

rewarded with them happy in this year 

13. 

with just a new name

as time runs away

sometimes I speak of myself

in past tense, in third person

--I fall asleep, it's another day

I fall asleep and it's still today

life conveys me, an escalator
I ascend without any attempt 

I make meaning of everything

as time runs away, unmasking

all these unwitnessed narratives

and somedays will remind me 

of me, as I sift for obscurity

dowse for light... stay for me

Pic: T. J. Jarrett