in Thailand!! Kinda think Railay Bay
is actually Pandora:) Touched elephants,
temples, watched blind boxing! What?
Made Pad Thai, banana cake, ate bing soo.
(Bringing back cookbook) — Pretty sure
I’ll be the same person, even though Mom
seems to think I’ll come home different:)
Love & miss you guys! ❤ Mackenzie
It’s up to you daughter. The sandal’s
on your foot now. I’ve been trying to
forget myself you know, but this
sanctimonious jangle of time keeps
getting stuck in my stomach
sending me back to that bend in the
Gunnison River, my bike transport
thrown down in a fit on the embankment.
A ridiculous book loaner in my hand,
a younger me perched on a rock
trying to figure out how to live a snake-
bitten lifestyle, despite my higher
calling to sunshine & writing glimmers of it
down. But back to you daughter. Please be un-
reasonable. It’s your decision to make.
This privilege will mean the most to you,
and these parts will unequivocally be
Not that I’d know firsthand. But
you might want to bring a raincoat.
It’s probably green for a reason.
And hey, you might want to take
a flashlight that doubles as a
lantern, which also doubles as a
blunt weapon. I’ve checked. They
don’t allow tasers in checked baggage
or carry-on. Promise you’ll take a
couple of warm fuzzy jackets. Upfront
you won’t know another soul, and who
knows what a Wellington Winter is like?
You might have taken us too. But you won’t
gain a lick of independence that way,
so take our Go-Pro from the desk in our
bedroom. Just go, and break in your new
hiking boots, – their lovely blue spell
shell shuffling their way through Middle Earth.
[for Real Toads] some new shoes for my eldest daughter’s upcoming adventure studying abroad in New Zealand. I’m thrilled to announce she has also opened an obligatory blog to journal her travels to NZ and Thailand… you know, so her dad and I can see where all our money’s going:) Follow her at Mackenzie In Middle Earth to see her wearing those new Ahnu Boots we got her for Christmas. Her trip begins this February.
I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment’s gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity ~
of fake flowers,
fairy christmas lights,
disassembled beds, lamps,
& commode chairs,
i need to pee.
a tiny mirror
falls out from the elastic band
of my underwear
&i see you,
but you spook &evaporate
quicker than i can hang on to.
i hold: this tiny mirror.
still, this orphaned poem.
“Dust in the Wind” lyrical
inspiration at Real Toads
how is it, my progeny, a genius, heralded with acceptance
into this prestigious university, stands with me here at the
park and pay while i insert my credit card this way and that?
holding up the village of the calm and collected forming
a well-dressed line behind me? uncool. the car i’ve parked in
stall 4. uncool is the amount of time it takes me to figure
things out: up or down, east or west, housing or campus tour?
how do i love her? i walk an extra mile, schlep up and down
the hills, stop asking extraneous questions, give her my free
cupcake, buy her lunch and an ice cream for the drive home.
i tell her, without reservation, that she’ll be the one to find
her way here. that’s how she knows i love her. i love her.
Let’s not go back. There are no pictures.
There is no film footage of me
in K-State’s purple & white skirt.
Stop going to the library to search me out.
Where’s a picture for you? We didn’t
take pictures easily back then. I didn’t
document your absenteeism either. Why?
Why do you look for the child you dropped
like a dog in Moore Hall’s parking lot?
Too cowardly to look back? I carried
crates and suitcases inside all by myself
while you drove home to numbly pick
dandelions out from your green lawn.
You want to unearth a picture of me
smiling in matte, somewhere in time,
to hang on your wall as if you were there,
as if the sky never fell on the day
little brother cried from the back
seat, waving the longest two-year goodbye?
You can’t recover any of what was lost &
even if you do find a grainy old picture,
you’ve gotta know that old pictures are liars.