Poem – the state of discourse



does it help that I called you on your birthday
that is a ‘yes’
but below that tidal crest of astonishment

that it is only accidents which provide me with
my shine
not anything I do

and I let go of the designs of things
moving backward through understanding
into confusion again

I wanted to speak to you, and there, I have

but that’s not ornate enough
for my mood

I’m thinking of you
putting your game face on
to send me a chapbook

what is a book but a tree
given speech

what is a friend but my heart
given another home

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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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