For Emily Hunt
Remind me that I’m still living and
taking full advantage of the fact.
Show me Big Sur and
I’ll show you bighorn sheep.
Get wild in Colorado, golden in California
Spill Jameson on our nipples and
lick it off with French fried tongues.
Share saliva in morning before
burning our mouths with black coffee.
Let’s miss the sunrise and sunset on a Sunday.
Find a typewriter and we’ll write
a screenplay for a puppet show.
We’ll write a part for a fool, a
hopeless romantic, soul searching.
Read poems and become curmudgeons.
Buy tickets for teeny, tiny planes
and land in secret cities at night.
Eat breakfast on an air mattress,
let the crumbs fall where they will.
Acquire blisters from swatting flies all day.
How about you put on a sundress
or a librarian’s outfit and dance.
Play the autoharp until your fingers
bleed while I’m removing my heart.
We’ll get lighthouse tattoos to lead the way.