everyone is just doing their best
more than ever i just see that in such spectacular clarity
a microscope, a science project, a telescope
what is even out there?
stars, always stars

love
and other things
knees knocking under a table
kafka and i hold hands as bugs
is my favorite line i have ever written

i started reading a hundred lovers by richie hofmann:
"I wake up on a crisp afternoon in November
with things to buy:
cheese and apples, chenin blanc, flowers."

charting key disputes for offensive discovery in MDL proceedings
identifying client file responsive documents
priority issues highlighted in blue
new developments in green
"so, you don't write?" my father in law asks me over dinner
a twisted screw, a knife to the heart -- well, yes, i do, in emails mostly
but actually, not that much, anymore

but here i am
never giving up
this weird strange place of memory and old phantom aches i have to read to remember, taylor swift: i forgot that you existed
the chronicle of my lovestory with love, growing up, and sure, my husband
as brief as nine years can be
as short as the time from here to there
as we get older the time we experience is a smaller percentage of our life
the younger we were the larger, longer a year was

driving down connecticut avenue, thinking
we never meet the grownups of our youth,
never become them, never seen them again
infallible, knowing the answers, their houses and twinkling lights and dinner parties
i have never met them again, ghosts of what i thought life would be like
it's been years on years since i realized my parents are just people
a month and soon, another birthday
blessed

the markers of these days
playing pokemon on the switch before work and at lunch
going for lots of walks and putting a bow on a year of PT, shoulder completely unfrozen
seeing my SF weekly to play pokemon go, make dinner, light our candles and talk
administrative errors, one i have never made before (ah life, so many mistakes yet to make):
accidentally underdosing myself and the depression coming over me like a cloud
a wild ride, optimism that's almost heartbreaking, days off
oh, and how could i forget! wordle, of course. haven't missed a day
and writing, again, in journals, in notebooks, in poems, and, today: here.

x

i found something, not unlike this, nine years ago. on writing to remember


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