He sprinkled green buds in the hole, a pack of ramen, cigarettes, cat food, and dumped out a beer.
I threw in three pink zinnias.
He reached down with a bloody left hand to give its fur one last pet. I don’t know what we’re doing only that we recognize a something familiar in the puddle, not direct but something else. I don’t know who he is I only know… nothing. Upon nothing. Upon nothing. the wanting to push something into the empty places where voices dance, flutter like leaves. I can’t focus can’t do one thing… and yet I do focus. On my thoughts.
She taught me how to clean wine glasses. Seriously there’s a right way.
How to cut the heads off dragons that show up at your gate spitting sparks onto the steps.
How to be cool but not distant.
How to talk but knowing when to shut up.
She taught me about dehumidifiers and top coats on nail polish.
Roasted lamb and good wine.
Baby lions inside godzillas that need extra petting.
And then there’s all the things I learned just by smelling.
What’s good cheese.
What’s sound advice and what’s a load of crap.
Keep medicine and opened wine in the fridge and mushrooms in the freezer.
It’s good to call but sometimes it’s good not to call.
Clean your pets a lot.
Don’t wait till it’s too late, get in there!
Check out the nose.
Pick the hitchhikers out of the fur.
Drain the hottub on the regular.
And don’t forget to keep buying candles.
Don’t forget about good books.
There’s an ocean of them out there all you have to do is ask.
And remember your rugs need climbing and your friends need to know you love them. that you care about their sand and pebbles.
And Dreams are tunnels that lead to dark rooms in Arabic and French, but if you take the time to touch the shadows its all becomes write like you talk.
And if you want an orchid, be an orchid, don’t just sit around waiting for rain.