i can’t title this exactly as i want to as it might give too much away and i may pay both a literal and figurative price (meter reader walks the dock and i note the time)
it’s not stealing it’s borrowing so i borrow a hose from down the dock to fill freshwater into leaking freshwater tank, a good portion of which will leak and bilge pump out into the sea
she’s too young which means of course that you are too old and still you are full of steam and only wish yourself water
walking home through the woods from the post office i pass an old coworker in a kayak and talk too loudly and scare away the birds he was quietly paddling to go see
most all of it mostly feels like trick, like sleight of hand, like last night’s dream; in an airport, unaware of where i’m going, but knowing i am to go
i realized a wire had become disconnected from the bilge pump and that by touching the two wires together the pump again worked and i don’t think i’ve ever felt more proud in my life
farmers market in early-mid-september in bucolic college town along the shores of a lake and the sun is on fire but no does not burn
zakschafer.com