Happy Fourth, or whatever

It's always fun to have a day off work which requires no excuses.

I was poking around on my computer and found something that made me remember why I love to write, why I love words, yada yada. I miss writing. Like really writing. From a quadrant of my brain that thinks a little more creatively. Or something like that.
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far south, near the shuttered paper factory
where the casino lights electrify the water
you pushed a damp whisper into my chin

we were holding hands for the first time
ashamed of my hatred of hand lotion
afraid you’d feel the fissures in my palm and think me rough

you smelled like what your home must
detergent and pretzels, burnt coffee
your hips made me want to build a chair around them

while the hammer was out, I’d build an altar to your lips
swollen pink jelly slugs that catch on your teeth when you speak quickly
teeth not meant to be orderly and tampon-white

the dent in your cheek, the oil slick on your crooked nose
things that made me the feel distinctly, entirely breakable
a herd of glass buffalo attempting ballet

a creature like you seems formed from absolute zero
no memory of mistakes or errors in evolution
imperfect brilliance sketched, crafted, accounted for.

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A funny little something:

Yesterday I was standing in the kitchen waiting for Avery to eat his food so I could let him out. Which is what I do every morning. He's so excited that everyone's awake that sometimes it takes awhile to get him to actually finish. Anyway, I was standing there watching him and suddenly I let out a fart that sounded like a machine gun. Popopopopppp. Avery spat out his whole mouthful of food, like he was afraid the food might be made of dynamite. It scared the crap outta him! And oh, did I laffff and laffff.
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Another funny happening was something Micah said. He has the most unexpected sense of humor. I mean his timing is unexpected and he can be so clever. God, now I'm just filling you with expectations, it probably won't even be funny anymore.

We were watching that show Dirty Jobs and Mike, the host, was helping in a bell factory. Where they made bells. One of the essential ingredients in a bell is manure, much to Mike's (and our) surprise. Before they got around to explaining it, I said, "I wonder why they need manure? That's so weird!" and Micah replied, "It's the part that makes the bell go dunggg, dunggg."

I'm still cracking up about that twenty-four hours later.
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I hope you eat BBQ and see some fireworks today. Cyndi Lauper is playing for free downtown tonight. I've actually known about this for awhile and kept thinking it would be so cool to go, but I never brought it up and now it's tonight and most people have plans already. Micah and I could just go, but...I am so against that fucking crowd that gathers down there on the Fourth. It's just kind of overwhelming. I'm such a dud sometimes. But it requires parking, chairs, orienting to toilets because I'll have to go all the the time, and I know it's going to be hot. I need to get my cool back, though, fo' reals. Boorrrrrinnnngggg.