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My door open, but
the rooms are empty, thoughts like
forgotten relics.
…create. Impatient
that I won’t pay attention
when I’m writing stuff.
Flat mapped names turn in-
to forested hills, roads wind
towards adventure.
Listserv fight breaks out.
Among civil people, the
retorts well-researched.
Directed at me
all day it follows me from
room to room in heat.
And so summer goes
like fishing line cast into
swift moving waters
Rumbles of thunder
promise that soon fat raindrops
will bring refreshment.
Nobody wants to
be there. Even the teachers
sit, watching the clock.
At the interview
J’s hired on the spot, full of
new employee glee.
Panera’s didn’t
call, nor Applebee’s. Rejec-
tion’s hard at sixteen.
She said she felt like
a fairy princess, draped in
blue with beaded swirls.
Has it really been
a month since I told you all
about my day, dear?
J replaced my mouse
that broke. M’s card made me cry.
Both my greatest gift.
Formally over
twelve years of learning to look
good on this one night.
Cap, gown, diploma,
degree. A sense of self the
take-away that counts.
Undercooked pancakes,
misspelled cards, weeds for flowers.
Love makes them perfect.
such a sweet ride they
didn’t want to leave so they
did Wendy’s drive-thru
Deciding who to
take like negotiating
Mideast peace treaty.
In it she was arm
candy, someone that turned heads
unexpectedly.
M came home and washed
all the dishes in the sink
trying to be nice.
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