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I’m thinking about my friend Amy tonight. She went to the hospital yesterday with extreme stomach pain, and had a appendectomy today. I spent some time today making a batch of enchiladas and a ton of cookies for her husband and kids. That’s what we do, I’ve found, as people. When our friend are hurting and we don’t know what to do to help, we cook. After my breast surgery nearly two years ago our community fed us for eight weeks or more. I’ve never felt more loved.

Anyhow, I’m thinking about Amy and about appendices tonight. I’m thinking it will be metaphysical and strange. Time-travelly and whatnot. Β Here is a poem.

Appendices

Don’t let’s think about what comes after.
Let us never dwell up on in it.
Hear me now all bright and clear,
don’t let’s ever think on it.
All the greatest books have twice the ends,
and here we are, wrestling against the stuck pages.
Here we are, walking on the cliff wall,
against the spray, arm-in-arm, arm in frozen arm,
against the capsizing hearts.
No one dares say the lighthouse is out of reach, tonight.
Tonight we all sail to the lighthouse,
despite the weather.

*********

Well, goodness. That turned all Virginia Woolfie all of a sudden, and has nothing to do with time travel. Whoopsie. That is okay. Happy Tuesday, poemies.

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