How long does it take to be near me, will you come home early next week?
I was thinking overwhelming about Friday Harbor tonight, Hollie place… my mother, Jim, my father, Frank Jensen, men who burned their faces off with aerosol cans and fireplaces, Chris Hansford in wheel chairs in my old place with Laura Earnhart, watching me getting thrown to, thrown to.
Something I can do to you, something I can do to you, over and over again showing you a good time.
100 yards away from the convalescent center where my mother worked and we walked skateboardinly casual into asking for money and candy bars. Ellen Spillane, Ellen Spillane over the loudspeaker until she appeared right in front of me. Proffer of goodness chuckle
Hey, when I write this I think of you Wesley and cookie jars, ham slices and brown bread, when I write this I think of histories, Naomi L., Thomas B., Cody W., Larry M., Mark E. and my two sisters who were just there doing their thing.
It think about Jesse Maas, Rama Fire, Gabe K, and Jesse Eliis, Eric Evenson, Jonas Haskins, Ryan Crosby, Javas Lehn, Megan O’Leary, Shannon Burns, (not forgetting you Rishel), Sorgenfrei, Charlie B. Eric Evenson, Janeen, I think of Ethan, and Cyrus, I think of Sean, Brian Prescott, Nate,
The fair and corndogs, the American legion, the docks and airport. This cement, this foundation of us, ever stuck and binding, everything else a temporary, beauty that was and won’t be…
This stuff exploding Bobby Grove, this stuff reckoner Zach and Kyle Spear… I am tired now,
My mother a teacher my father the preacher,
You bring out the best in me
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