Saturday, January 2, 2016


I’m not the same detective
I’m already old – it’s funny
I was so old to be so young
and now so young to be so old
(the older people laugh and moan)
but I shake eternal teenager –
and know this will transcend
my skin and hair. 
It’s in my voice, maybe.
It’s in my nervousness, baby.
Emma has a belly. 
The instinct is to see beyond the surface,
feel what’s really going on.
Beneath the impressive rind a new one twists,
and we are giddy to see “what’s up”.
What’s up. You in there.
You might be my newest, oldest friend.
Your mom and I were miserable, but we were happy.
We made each other laugh so long.
We got sick on blackberries.
We dreamed about you on the beach,
on the hill, from the floor bed.
We thought about stealing flavored chapstick.
but ultimately, we were good.