The shuttlecock, served,
Goes over the net.
I'll probably lose
The dollar I bet.

Over the net
It goes back and forth:
It goes north to south,
And it goes south to north.

The birdie in flight
Flits like a sparrow.
She hits it so hard
It darts like an arrow.

I smack it as hard
As I can possibly smack it,
And, wouldn't you know it,
It's stuck in my racquet.

I toss the sack.
It's kicked around.
I get it back.
We get a hack.
It hits the ground.
'Skeeters attack.

the leaves sway and catch sunlight
and i catch both against my cheek
and chase them down to my throat,
crush them into each other into me
into chamomile: a trickling summer

i drown in sword-shorn grasses and
in return for breath they write on
my skin in languages that have never
been spoken, only sung only felt
only studied with one dirt-painted
fingertip, fine hairs punctuating
pink brown imprints of trodden earth

ants count dozens of steps, climbing
the winding train tracks (and rocks
sleeping beneath) of my wrists legs
nose and untraveled stomach, and i
let them travel; let my body be gravel
become highway become interstates to
ugly and restful towns diners hotels

and even as sunlight burns my eyes
and bobcats stalk past forests beyond
the reach of my oven-warm wind-wound
open palm, ground allows its drinks to
seep into my sweatpants desert skin
and curls: an oasis i carry on my back

This moment now under a starry night
Bathed in the soft glow of firelight
Slightly cool air brings the scent of flowers
Time stands still and minutes are as hours
Nature comes to life in praise of your name
As I lift my eyes to profess the same

I wish to leave this path,
    to view from water's edge,
this creek become my hearth,
    by lake to which I pledge.

to wade with Oceanids,
    my boots submerge in mud,
adopt which day forbids,
    silk flashed away in flood.

i am an inside child,
handles are red-hot
doors terrify me with
screams only i hear if i dare
breathe the fresh air
of scary eyes i am afraid.
mom, why am i not
normal why am i stuck
inside why am i a
hikikomori who
hides why do i cry if i try to
go outside?

Frisbee flies
Like a UFO.

Blue skies.

A tic-tac-toe
Of them trails
Called chem trails.

Nanoaliens hatch.

A wonky throw—
He makes the catch!

The crow in the tree
    is actually
a black trash bag.