Big boots. Word nerd. Not so recent undergraduate, Chicago post-Bay Area parting. Bourbon charmer, beer baroness. Unapologetic vice-ridden slow-geek. Two-timing extensive public transit with back to the land small agriculture. Library vigilante, gender derelict, closet formalist. Ambition without self-importance. Books, beats, baking, a set of brakes. Wrestling with growing up angels and emerging from bike accidents.
Here’s the internet broom sweeping the path up to my stoop. Window open.
Summer seems to retreat, and I’ll do the same. Beer and breeze will make me remember it isn’t capitulation. There is Marquez to read and poems to grind out. Projects to pretend start. Sleep. So much sleep.
Or that when you feel your bones beneath you you must believe all the parts of you still there.
