from sun to disappointment

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sun in my eyes I emerge from a myth

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drowsy green encounters with apples

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null set; I staple my hand to my disappointment

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Space-time

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Only a few weeks later and already we can’t agree about how it happened. How to tell the story. Who should take responsibility. Who should claim credit. What happened first. What happened next. What’s even possible. He says he’ll investigate and figure out the truth, but I have a feeling it isn’t that kind of universe any more. I’m half expecting the cat lying next to us to fade away, leaving nothing but a smile.

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first light too far from the moon to believe it

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Enough

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I realized this evening at about the time I would normally leave work that I actually had about four more hours of work to do. So, naturally, I left my office in my bare feet and wandered outside in the rain. The landscaping at the place where I work is not normal office-park landscaping. It’s more like botanical-garden landscaping. The grass is about four inches thick. There are flowering bushes and stone paths and bridges over flowing water and hidden corners you can turn to find yourself. I padded around in the growing darkness, trying to pay attention to reality. Then I went back to my office building and realized that the doors must have automatically locked at the close of the working day and I hadn’t brought my key card outside with me. The only thing that saved me was the group of people that had stayed on after work to sing together. I was sorry to interrupt them. But they were too happy to mind.

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a face at the window about to be unlocked

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still looking at the hill as it rises it rises again

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a question of dinosaurs whether reality is enough

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Patient Safety

The topic is Patient Safety. If you think that something isn’t safe, you should alert someone. It should be one of the following people, because they are the ones who decide whether or not things are safe. Don’t admit to anyone that something isn’t safe unless one of these people confirm it isn’t safe. If they don’t seem to be listening to you, tell them louder. Accost them in the hallway. Stand in the doorway of their office prophesying doom. Even if we get virtually everything right, we will probably still get something wrong, and someone will die. This person will probably not be you. But what if it is?

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in a room
with a dragon
a red dress

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(half moon)

half moon
I take my shoes off
to feel how hard the road is

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all the pollen in the world the weight of him

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the smell
of rotting rosehips…
the decision is final

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It’s been a long week, and my brain’s full of stuff. Bad stuff, good stuff…the operative word is “full.” All the stuff is churning around in my brain as if my brain were one of those slightly insane overactive washing machines that you’re always a little afraid will actually walk out of the basement during the spin cycle. I sit down and try to let poetry settle out of my mind, work its way through the filters and the silt of my subconscious and gather in a clear quiet pool somewhere I can get to it, and–there my brain goes, shaking again, everything in a big muddy mess.

I might just need to sit down everyday and write to you guys. You’re remarkably calming. You won’t mind if I get all journal-y on you, will you? I mean, journal-y in a “yeah, there’s some poetry here, but I make no guarantee about its quality” kind of way? Thanks, I knew you’d understand.

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