A rare lunch break
today more important than my
synchronization with the Airborne delivery van.
Sitting by the elementary school at recess
listening to two boys discuss their powers
of the lightening spirit.
"I get 17 spirit powers, because we'll say I'm 17 years old,
but you only get 8, because you're 8.
This is our destiny. Did you know that?"
The other boy does not respond, but instead
climbs higher into the jungle gym.
Planted on the wood shavings at the edge
by the chain link fence,
just me, PMS, and an apple core.
The motion of the water below in between the hills.
I don't know what I think of religion, sex, or death,
so why does the dilemma over what color to dye my hair
seem so much more disorienting?
Another boy on the playground runs up to a larger boy,
"Stuart, I'm your servant! What do you want me to do?"
Grabs his shoulders, follows him around.
Perhaps some tendencies are with us from the beginning.
Too soon, time to trudge back up the hill
I hate moving away from the water, turning my head
over my shoulder to watch it as long as possible.
A blue jay berates me, squawling near the office.
If I made the same noise at those who passed by my desk,
do you think they'd give me a mental health leave?


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