a change of plans
a swift
strike of the hand and everything
smells all salt/butter/burning garlic.
I've potted and
re-potted
and re-re-potted
every plant in this house only to
notice how when afforded more room, roots
just keep growing deeper.
a list of things to do:
fix backpack
finish library books
clean mold off window
turn down the tea kettle
I am
engaged in thoughts and ideas
so dirty as to
make like sand boxes and build
them all up too high with the knowledge
that they will all fall down, as
everything does. Right?
I ask my mother
my father
my sister
but in the end it
was my brother who told me the truth.
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