where i live and what i do (to be continued)

golden doodle age 11 who does not eat dog food from bowl but ball and only on driveway if sitting next to him. also, does not like leash. also, sleeps on bed. also, will breathe on face for two hours and not let you sleep until you take him to basement and fill drier with tennis balls and turn on loud brook selection from noise machine and hang towel over window so can’t see white pops sizzling lightning during boomboomboom thunderstorms.

wife. she loves you and cooks and shops for food because you are not allowed to anymore (long story). also taught you how to talk without overthinking. in other words, what you are thinking at time. pay attention to this only. also has same tastes as you. also smart. and able to argue with you without baretta bullet threats of divorce court. talk stuff out like should you redo the porch or save up for window blinds. and if you wanted a second house you shouldn’t have chosen highschool english teacher.

your son. your daughter. both complicated. one lives in the city. the other is in utah today wading through a quick river in utah’s bryce canyon. send texts as needed. answer questions more than ask. have venmo password ready.

you have you. 2 eastern place in new joisey on a bluesky evening with a birdpoop copper mailbox really used for driftwood ads and messages which remain corked without consequence. and right now van morrison spinning out through vacuum tubes: “i was educated by the school of hard knocks. everybody left me, high and dry.” so yes, while high school was a high and grad school in creative writing that was thirty-seven times twelve moons back. so sit in your red chair. recognize you and your words will be sand soon. that this is okay. this is so okay. even when your right nostril was cauterized this morning and you have to take it easy for another week. you have seven more days to paint and write. and revise. and when your brain is tuned just so, it is summer forever.