seven

The word landlord will go by the wayside.

That energy is already on the way out. 

☑ primary bedroom
☑ primary bathroom

You must live like yourself because life is happening now.

I sleep with my pajama shirt unbuttoned in one move closer to being a daddy.
A dadi.

I wake to sleepy talk through a freedom declaration before taking a cup of coffee to the muggy front porch of my childhood.

A different front porch with the same summer morning weather.

No yelling here that I've yet heard.

Get up anytime you like.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Couples making moves through the thin walls of the bed & breakfast.

This muggy is my sweet spot.

Sweaty from being still.

Yesterday, I lay in the cedar grove for hours. Set up shop set on a sheet printed with suns and moons. My red rental Wrangler is parked nearby with windows down, serving mobile commissary:

☑ electrolytes 
☑ bug spray 
☑ baby wipes 
☑ Jung
☑ curry scented incense

I'm dozy when a red Wrangler parks at the high point startling me. It's the guy kombucha grifter come to yell and shake his braided beard, full of bogus claims. Some of us always wait for the yell. But the truck has charm and out steps a different character. Farmer Bobby more like Bill Clinton than I remember. There are campy Darth Vader helmets in place of his 1989 Jeep's e's.

I'd like to see a vast carpet of wildflowers partnered with a honeybee commune. "Cutting garden" is a home phrase I never quite shake. The paths need fresh stone in a different color. He'd soon like to see an old fence brought down to plant a few more rows of beans. The bushes growing into the fenceline are fast becoming tree-like and crowding the back road. We already know that the tree-trees need help, even if they're not 'supposed' to be here — hence all the bunnies, and a magnificent large doe.

The farmer's next-door neighbor is Luke, doing the demo of the old tenant house, allegedly burned down after some story about blow jobs in lieu of rent going awry. How? Turkey buzzards have been roosting in the collapsed eaves. Apparently they really stink, as in smell fowl. Someone told me that if you hit one with your car, they automatically vomit, and the acid in their stomach eats through bones so eats through the paint of your dented bumper. I cannot learn enough. Endless knowledge when not worried all the time about where the baseball gear's been lost now. Just keep it all in one spot. Get some old-school lockers and anchor them to a wall in your basement addition. Spray paint them or leave the tarnish, like that industrial unit we put in the apartment.

Dragonflies follow me when I walk the farm. They followed me because my boots kick up little bugs. Disruption feeds serendipity. People whose lives work well tend to keep this to themselves while others get distracted in reaction, unseeing what lies ahead. If you want, push your way to the front of change and avow no harm done to the back of the line.

☑ Rearrange

   ★

I'm writing, but I'm right here with you. 

Current worlds making room for new worlds.