an envelope
addressed to a broken backyard
—Landis Everson
The fan on high; webcamming in the
afternoon. A wealth of filth in the
boring carpet. Loving to spice things
up, I try my damnedest to stay awake.
Things start happening.
Mom calls to inform me that she’s
wrapped her back porch round the
entire north side of her house.
Stores run out of sugar keeping
her hummingbirds quenched.
An email from a lovely friend I
haven’t seen in months; an invitation
to dinner. Why should we quibble
with fate? If you find me flirting
in the chatroom, just remember that
flirting leads to friendship.
