15 July 2022

quotidian one–twelve by Shine Ballard

As a child, i dehydrated easily.

Ginger & rye . . .

preparation—

after i mowed the lawn,

“i’ve got to go—”


into sleep until, again, i wake—

“i can wait.”

Procure another pencil.

Wipe down the sink,

and she weeds the perimeter.

A quick lunch with a politically kneaded history.

i’ll loathe a little deeper.


Alteration.

Pick up some Lapsang Souchong,

soon . . . soon . . .

be safe,

editing in between.

 

Shine Ballard