Monday, July 19, 2021

my coffee wants me to do a jig
or the hokey pokey
or to show up early,
but my computer is slowing me down.
go fig.

five-day-old flowers flop and unfurl, alternately;
updates fail; a restart is required.

sitting here turning over a new week,
new cards—no leaves to speak of—
possibilities do-si-do between my temples,
squares bending into circles
like ice-cleaved stones
after a thousand years of melt.