(Dedicated to Kandace)
I endure almost assistantless day,
making a valiant effort not to contract
to the bug that wrapping them
each around pincher fingers in turn
and squeezing human insides
until they vomit or crap on themselves.
do I realize
it’s also a day when
the writer gets to organize
the organizer gets to dance,
and the dancer gets to write,
and my whole self gets to remember
rainbows are hidden behind clouds.