‘Nobody likes grape!’ I leaned out from behind my car, a whirlwind approached. ‘Doesn’t matter!’ Another voice answered from somewhere across the lot. ‘If it’s not in stock, then it’s not in stock!’ The rain had picked up. ‘…not my point. Not disagreeing but... not my problem to tell customers about inventory issues.' My person paused beside my driver side door then added- ‘It's Mike’s job to make sure people know.’ He checked his device. It blurped quizzically. ‘You Chris Cluff?’ I nodded and tried to find my opinion about grape flavouring. A fading voice continued- ‘NOT worth it. Why d’you have a beef with Mike over this? It’s not worth it.’ He looked at me for a second then got to unpacking the goods. Items moved quickly into the back of my vehicle. He was deciding something, then offered- ‘Mike is our manager.’ His tablet pinged again. 'He ordered too much grape.' The device's pleas were muffled. Distant. 'He doesn't want the head manager to know.' Aidan had set it inside a red crate, while he was emptying a green crate. 'So we are supposed to sub grape for lime and tell the customer that we are out of stock.' Now a blue crate sat on top of the red. There was momentary panic, I pointed to the bottom box. Relief, then- ‘You got one of the last lime Bubly.’ He pronounced it Bublé and smiled to himself. ‘The next client that orders lime will get a sub of grape instead.’ Non issue for me. 'Even though we got stock.' I waited for more, then filled the silence- 'Dude I am good with grape or lime. It's all the same to me.' It definitely wasn't the same for him. He was dismayed. With a sigh he advised- 'It ain't right.' And left.
insight
my words will change me
Spent most of my life
breaking fossils from prose,
weaving dust into
thread, stitching seams on
wings that have lead me,
fed me more full meals
than my mother or
father or other,
then put me to bed
with confusing dreams.
Caution to robbers
who find my bare grave
filled with old man’s bones
and cold cryptic stones-
what were you thinking
you might find this time?
A nest lined in rhymes?
A chest full of lies?
Since all the hearty
poems left my body,
you will not find new
prodigal pieces;
all the fragile forms
that I used to be-
the structure, stanzas,
and blood and the ink,
the words on page, can
no longer change me.
And what I’ll love most
is the double dare-
to recognize the
figure in the words
once no one is there.
how could they know?
The Amazing Race goes to a commercial break, two teams of high fiving contestants atop the Eiffel tower fade to a McDonald's ad. 'Remember Paris?' I toss across the room at my wife. 'I do. Both visits.' 'If only we would have ...' I wished. '...gone up the tower.' She finished. That seems like another life, before we were us, before marriage and family were even discussed. From then to now, somehow other things left undone places not gone have become 'Eiffel towers'. Not exactly regrets maybe just experiences we weren’t ready for yet. My kids, our life, sit on the floor between us. They suddenly are curious. 'When did we go to Paris?'
animate nation
Dear Empty Coffeecup
I see you
At the end of my arm cradled in my hand tilted questioningly
A sliver of last sip smirking at me
You are in queue behind other hand raisers
Snow Filleddriveway
Overloaded Dishwasher
Ripe Litterbox
Bag of Work in the front foyer
And the Mind that Thought it wise to bring school shit home over the March Break ‘just in case’
Also needs emptying.
time travels
3 years ago
today was an
erratic
Friday
whiteboards
became haunted
with
freeze framed
to dos
and dates
grocery shelves
were
about to be
wiped
cleaned
of toilet paper
and
Lysol spray
news reels
had yet
to include
hot spots,
death counts,
and
infection rates
I would live,
learn,
and work
without my body
and with
pronounced
doubts
my students
would
know me
by beard
and name
and
wall adornments
in my home office
any new space
or place
triggered
fears of yolo
and wistful
looks of
fomo
‘where are you?’
was akin to
‘are you safe?’
good night
and
see you tomorrow
became
idiosyncratic
sayings
hope
did not
seem dangerous,
public space did
safe measures
were clear,
lines defined,
distance estimated
and we were
good with
that
so we
said
we hadn’t
yet crashed
Amazon
looking for
masks
doing things
was still
rationale
even a
few students
asked
will
we
be online
tomorrow?
no one deflated
no one hyperbolized
no one gasped
no one said the inside aloud
no one ironically asked
irrationally
from behind a mask
well then
why bother locking doors?
why bother taking vitamins?
why bother with a seatbelt?
no one yet
wondered
what was next
omissions
the story refolded into straight lines molded around better times and even though we know better this letter won't fit in the mail unless we admit that most of it never happened. funny that as we grapple with constant edits wonder who said it one truth becomes true even though both of us have tried to say it better no one ever stays for all of the credits.
words keep wolves at bay 