When she’s not funny
her raw candor grips readers
probing her deep wounds.
Writer friend
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When she’s not funny
her raw candor grips readers
probing her deep wounds.
Taken by cell phone,
he grins shyly, she glows as
if her prince has come.
Either it’s a loud
HVAC system or
white noise to mask fear.
Latex gloves. Cotton
swabs. Antiseptic. What would
MacGyver create?
Snowpack seems solid
but underneath, droplets sing
of melting caverns.
She keeps it displayed
to remind herself that once
she didn’t know it
…create. Impatient
that I won’t pay attention
when I’m writing stuff.
Flat mapped names turn in-
to forested hills, roads wind
towards adventure.
Listserv fight breaks out.
Among civil people, the
retorts well-researched.
Expected to know
all the dishes, servers eat
the entire menu.