Monday, January 25, 2016


I’m not good yet. Every time they have to tell me the steps again.
Sometimes I form snakes, or spliffs. Sometimes the cuts aren’t deep enough.
I don’t want to know, but I want to be good. I want a natural way.
You tell me with your eyes closed that you like to watch me
concentrate.  Fold clothes, lashes low. So I move slow –
fold and place and lift back up.
Balance trays, one arm, burnt buzzing.
Pat my hair. Laugh loud so the splash
will carry past the customers
right through the flour 

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