welcome home,

how peculiar
and obvious
this joy
this exultant
in forgetting
my own stunning
my three letters
scratched on top
of a desk
compared to
the letters
in green hope
piped across
this buttercream
iced cake with
all the charisma
in the world
tucked into each
storied bite

i missed you


for Mackenzie






last friday night
i had a homecoming
of sorts if that’s what
you want to call it
flying north-northwest
i was grounded in a
parking lot puddle and
the janitor waved me in–
insisted on warming my feet
while i wrung out my wings
then i remembered
that dreams have their themes
so the rest is what i know–

i am here. at the first
united methodist church and
stairwells have their spirals
choir bells wear their smiles
heads are bowed, and eyes are closed
but something says lift your lid
and the ladies on the phones are there
and the books on the shelves are there
and the balcony seats are way up there
and grandma’s corpse is still down there
under one high wattage stained glass eye
and wouldn’t you know–
she winks!

and all that is within the north
the south, the east and west
is fulfilled
and my mom and the babies are there
and my best friend and her groom are there
and the stable for mary, joseph, and baby jesus
is there too

and i forget my wings
and push wide the gate on the elevator
and skip out the front double doors
the janitor holds open, for me,
for me to hop on my banana seat bike
and pedal my way home like i do
coming from jennifer’s house