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epistle log 40rty 3hree
il postino
postman: (unprovoked, out of sight, out of the blue) doesn’t get any better than this, does it?
me: sure doesn’t
postman: you know it’ll snow tomorrow
me: that’s why we’ve got to enjoy today
postman: crazy, isn’t it?
me: (always is) . . .
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kroger parking lot, wednesday morning, walking to class
past the wrecking ball, eyes choking on the dust
break my neck looking over my shoulder
sunny day in my metroschifter "springtime" shirt: inside-out wishful thinking?
the spring breeze lays grids of x’s and o’s over heidegger’s dissection of truth
fresh corn and simmering vegetable gumbo smooth out the cool evening
i stay up late, savoring the abstract romanticism of the day
spring transitional, and sometimes you stand on the edge, gazing down the dividing horizon
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