Showblog

Vintage nineties drink
Minneapolis folklore
Liquid time travel

It’s a Friday game
Turn the floor into lava
We perch on the couch

We chase the tossed crumbs
Ignoring his other hand
That holds the playbook

A failed business con
With bankruptcy history
Sure, give him the keys

For twenty-five hours
Booker gave voice to our thoughts
Hope actions follow

Swirling words collide
Left pieces with nicked edges
We smooth out with pens

The day clawed back time
Whispering “just do nothing”
How could we refuse?

My mesh friend network
Connect through texts, drinks, visits
Feeling bubble wrapped

My haiku cat passed
Her brother tries to help out
He claims the keyboard                                

The quiet house screams
Missing the cat’s mulish voice
The reset begins