Here’s the Thing

I never said I didn’t want to move to Denver,
only that I hate mountains and craft beer.
Maybe you misheard; what I actually said
was that I’m not moved by John Denver —
his music or his Grape Nuts commercials.
But Denver is as Denver does, and if you
want me to fly low over all the wildflowers
there, pollinate all those acres of lupines,
then ask me again and I might say yes,
especially if you buy me a craft beer first.


Bonus poem post, NOT on a Tuesday!

Prospect Hill

My arm on his leg.
Just under your feet.

You are here for
the view; we have

none. Only earth.
Only quiet. We were

left. Not put in
those boxes.

Not moved anymore.
I don’t know his name.

There’s no way to ask.
Still, there is something.

Listen. How it sings
in your bones.