a short poem not about plants

so, I was all set.
tea made.
idea almost in reach
and I was sideswiped by a friend
with Pika’s sister in tow
and her best bud Poppy

ugh. so.

we kvetched
ok, i kvetched
he can’t talk much
brain injury
drank beer
told me I reminded him of Margaret Thatcher
after some time
i guess that’s kinda a hard one to mime
– which maybe I deserved
as I was expounding on the advantages of Prime Ministers over Presidents

I’m not sure if that was a compliment

after a spell
after chatting
well, me chatting
him… struggling with words
visiting is sometimes all we have,

you know?

walked them back to their home
beautiful night
admired orion’s belt
as i led the little clusterfuckery home.

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