a mouse in the kitchen
but no chaos in the house
we coax the little guy into
a glass cup
and gently carry him out the door
down the steps
across the yard
to the cover of some brush
all the while i tenderly sing
‘it’s ok, baby, it’s ok, it’s ok.’
and if humanity has the capacity
to reassure creatures who don’t understand our language
can we try to speak a little more kindly to each other?
campfire
noun
a small fire at a campsite or in a yard, usually circular and often surrounded by stones or bricks
bonfire
noun
1) a large fire at an event or celebration
2) what the Farr/Twitchell household called our campfires
gas fire
noun
a confusing accoutrement that allows a fire to be maintained on a wooden deck for immediate morning enjoyment on a daily basis
see also: vacation bliss
when a small animal scratching from inside the walls
wakes you up like
your cat scratching at your apartment door
before six am
it is always a good idea to
heat up some coffee
and go outside with your kip and your dog
to watch the sun rise
(even if you can’t see the sun past the tree line)
what is it about
the rattle of an old farm house
basement heater
that makes me feel so
automatically
cozy?
a hummingbird knocked on our window this morning
and invited us with her to a fairy grove
we splashed in the icy cool creek waters
and slid up and down the hill valley roads
the dog was not so sure about the mini waterfalls
and i was not so sure about the steep decline
but before it gets too cold and snowy up here
it’s nice to call Vermont a two-week home.
On my rooftop I see:
1. a green tree across the street
2. a match to the folding chair under me
3. a pigeon, hopping on the next roof, its eyes as red as the
4. red brick apartment across the road
5. a treeline, it might be the park?
6. a metal fence, so I don’t fall off
7. this private rooftop terrace, that my privilege helped get me
8. satellite dishes from DirectTV
9. a/c units sticking out of 6th floor windows
10. clouds and a flash of what may be a rainbow
11. my rainbow hair blowing in the polluted wind
12. no sign nor sight of a way to make this poem end
13. sounds of busses, bodega music, wings flapping, construction; scents of the laundromat around the corner,
and wind, so much wind, against my face, feeling a chill on this hot New York afternoon, perhaps//
a loud boom, a bang, was it from the west or the east?
i strain my neck over the gate, and the only answer i see
is the smell of the garbage truck, stopped on my street.
i have so many unfinished poems written
but not the stomach to stomach the rereading.
reading through old poems
and realizing
they’re not as bad as you thought
no wonder poets wonder about new york city
this place is confusing
and disgusting
and beauty
the ups and DOWNS of
DISease
DISsatisfaction
DISparities
DIStancing
one moment i am creating more than i’ve created in my past three lifetimes
the next moment i cannot bear to do anything but
DIStract
how can one live (fully)
in this time
without careening
OFF
this roller coaster?
to live
to be live
to be alive
to be a live-
ing
breathe-
ing
hum-
an
BE-
ing
i hope my circus friends get hella strong (and hella grounded) from at-home conditioning.
i hope my performer friends losing gigs are monetarily safe.
i hope my introverted friends find this a great rest.
i hope my extroverted friends find fulfilling ways of connection in this time of social distancing.
i hope my friends who live with romantic partners find whole new ways of connection.
i hope my friends working from home find a routine to signify “at work time” vs. “not at work time.”
i hope my friends with kids find ways to fight the cabin fever.
i hope people go outside when the sun is shining. (i, for one, don’t feel quite as stuck when i get to be in fresh air three times a day with my dog.)
i hope the dogs who are so happy their people are at home all day don’t get too sad when schedules return to normal.
i hope my creator friends find new ways of creating in the time of the internet and live streaming.
i hope my friends with mental health concerns have a therapist they can video-chat with.
i hope my friends who need to still go out into the world don’t catch any illness. and i hope my friends who still need to go out into the world don’t carry any illness and pass it on to anyone at risk.
i hope my friends who are losing sources of income find new and exciting and fulfilling ways to get money (making physical art/online content/finally starting that Patreon/etc.)
i hope my friends with dollars to spare give to those who need it.
i hope my friends who are sad about this whole situation find light in dark places.
and i hope those of you who are angry find calmness.
and i hope those who are scared find solace, if nothing else, in mutual fear.
i hope no one runs out of money, food, or toilet paper.
and i hope, after this craziness is over, we all continue to wash our hands with equal vigor.
you are allowed
to start a million poems
with
‘when i was…’
maybe you need to reflect on
what was
before writing about
what now could be
kipventures 