Ann Arbor Review
INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
That you are the sum of your likes and dislikes is comforting
no matter how one arrives there.
My likes are advertised with t-shirts of bands,
jackets of sports teams, baseball caps of beer.
Dislikes are absent or implied by likes,
such as positive.
This has earned me countless acquaintances,
who do not sidle, but make a beeline to mock me
when my teams are in decline.
We reconcile by slapping glasses stamped with
a neon seal, sporting a come hither look to the local aquarium,
which does not have seals, but swimming tigers
that we agree are first rate.
It's better than internet dating.
As technology and products multiply
I delete likes or set them to the side
until they make a hole, from
collapsing under the immense weight
of new favs.
Sometimes I peruse the deleted me's
and am aghast,
at the poor choices made, based
upon the push and pull of my presentation.
Gnarled branches unfold to welcome the spiders.
Mushrooms take root in elbow cups.
Hollows like candle holders gather snowflakes
and nesting spiders,
in silt that swirled off barren mountain.
First sticking to wet leaves
and then tumbling down after dying,
pushed by mountain gusts
that overturn their green beds.
The snowflakes light upon webs,
providing a spark,
that becomes a candelabrum on springs,
when jarred by leaping squirrels and
black birds landing for a brief respite.
The wind sighs for all of us.
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