“i was born to make biscuits”
and so we let him.
flour, butter, one egg, messiest
table in the hole entire county.
mom watches bug and the boys
roll in the leaves outside, and
greg and i drink coffee by the fire
in thick socks and knitted throws.
a burst of the season arrives with
each sibling but we smile anyway,
kisses and cold hands pressed on
our warm cheeks until we're all
the same temperature. pop's biscuits
are done, so we sit and don't say
grace- just thank each other for
the things we have which no one
else could have given us. mom's
already missing the birds, and
wendy says she thinks she found
one of katy's old hats in the back
of her garage last month and she
even brought it with her this time.
we talk and we laugh and the little
boys nap and we just are.
we just are.

I have reduced my life
to voices and pictures

hard to see what
comes next

Today I had a physical exam and they weighed me
So I ate my weight later in the day
And spent 20 minutes kneeling over the brim trying to get rid of myself
And congratulations,
I said to myself in the mirror
You're officially in this.
You've created this horror for yourself
Good luck.
(I want to tell this boy about it but he has no place in the corners of my room. I will leave him on the bed
Some things are best left unsaid)

i think i am spread across
c o n s t e l l a t i o n s
my heart on too many suns
to keep track now.
if home is where
your heart is then my home
is in missouri
so we keep begging the sky
to give us one day together,
tie bedsheets in a line headed
west and east like we're
going to stretch across the
atlantic one of these days.
i swear some mornings
when it's quiet i can hear
a buzzing inside my chest
and i've known for a while
it was you. but how do
i whisper that across a
static line, to your face as
small as the screen on my
phone? we deserve much
better moments than
we've been allowed.

twisting my ears to try to open up my brain
it's like the sound of waves against rocks
bashing fists against skulls
i miss you already but i'll always take the pain over forgetting

I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A shelter out of rain,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.