I refused to scale the wall of an abandoned bridge.
You were already on the other side.
You were spunky.
That's all.
Intelligence yet to be proven, but maybe spunkiness is better.
In retrospect, it surely isn't.

If they were intelligent they would figure it out.
My rocks, my short dress, my latex undergarments.
Your arm, your tattoo, your driving.
My heads out the window because it refused to be inside.
Refusal and acceptance all in a parked car in a peaceful residential place.

"You crazy," someone said in a book I read.
Be more smart, be smarter.
Say something so we can talk about it.
Look up from that gross glowing cell phone.

Nothing seemingly tangible has changed in the past twenty-five days.
Except I vacuumed all the hay up from my floor and driving around aimlessly suddenly felt inexplicably good again.  

I was kind of like an errant vacuum,
******* up innocent little cloth specks and dirt clumps along with pennies and bobby pins.
The crackle of looming damage did not faze me.

But now I am thinking about public education, and vaccines, and health food again.
I'm thinking about the pros and cons and it feels right.

He's raking the garden rake too close to my back side
so over my music I mumble,
excuse me.
Rather perturbed,
distinctly disturbed,
I think how I'd rather do it alone.  

Later,
digging fairly deep into some sandy ground,
two clumps of horse **** in the two of my hands
I feel close to the earth.
I get back to the land.
I get back to the garden,
because she told me to do it,
and without the hired help.

I'm too anxious to focus on short poetry,
but not anxious enough to stop eavesdropping
on folks who talk about poetry.

30 minutes to rush to the Detroit gate.
Stop the plane!
Stop the plane, at least, for me.
I know I'm going to be sick.
I hope I sit by someone nice
and kind.

I dreamt a dream that a polar bear and its cub
entered a home.
A home that I was inhabiting with my mother and father.
At first, it only lounged around by the sliding glass door
(with its cub).
Very sleepy like, very casual.
But we were curious about its being around,
so we traipsed around the door, gazing at it.
Someone opened the door! (******)
and I scrammed to some little-boy's bedroom,
locked all the doors, even the doors leading to the bathroom.
Sooner than later, my parents found a way into the bedroom where
I hid.
The polar bear was trying to get in,
to eat us we were assuming,
so we hid under the bed.
Then I said, "let's climb out the window!"
So we did. We sat outside by some bushes.
My dad called me at this moment (in real time),
said the fish weren't biting and he was going to go golfing.
I tried not to sound hung-over.

Armpits, legs, arms
pits of arms.
Instrumental music--dancing.
Hopping, shaking your hips, moving your feet.
Stretching, drinking coffee, going to the bathroom.
Taking a walk, taking a drive.
Deodorant!
Bookbag, handbag, no bag.
Watering flowers, looking at flowers, getting naked.
Looking at your nakedness.
Dressing, re-dressing, *******, dressing.
Salad dressing, soup, eggs over easy, black beans.
Singing in the dead of night.
Blues, pastoral folk fleeting, flowing,
meeting again.
Traveling, boating, tripping and falling.
Bird-watching, laughing, joking,
(Midwestern jokes)
Leaving, grieving, waking up.

Teacher, you freed me.
Bit by bit I became willing to talk about I,
Myself, perched on a toilet seat pushing the soft
cushiony fabric into a tight oval to
commemorate the virgins of the midwest.
I can only hope the tenants won't mind.
I am not familiar with their particulars.