You are more than welcome
to sit in my chair and read your book
or my book. You are more than welcome
to take my seat on the couch, in the car,
at the dinner table, in front of the community.
You are more than welcome to the contents
of my drawers, my bank account numbers,
my passwords, my ledger of activities.
You are more than welcome to replace
my photo with yours, wherever it appears.
I have a stash of chocolate. I think you
already know about it. It’s yours.
You are more than welcome to
my knowledge and decisions,
my youthful look, my hair (!!).
When the phone rings, going forward,
it is for you, you are more than welcome
to whomever it is. You are more than welcome
to the joy I feel when the animal videos play.
You can have all my collections.
Don’t even ask. I’ll sign whatever,
You are more than welcome to my signature
my hand, my whole life.
All of This Is Normal
I want to tell you we dropped our kid
off at camp today, but the truth is
he was driving the car.
Our kid drove himself to camp today.
This has never been written before.
We were in the car.
We experienced it. The double whammy
of our boy who used to be a toddler
with cheeks from here to eternity
operating a motor vehicle on the
freeways of Los Angeles, on his way
to eight weeks away…maybe nine –
I can’t bear to look at the calendar.
Speaking of bears, we’re going to Alaska
where we hope to see one.
Alaska has made no promises. Someday
we won’t be in the car when he drives
from place to place. Someday he won’t even
live in our house. None of this is normal.
Dinner in Vancouver
A leisurely walk down Main Street
after a vegetarian tasting menu
which can only be described as
a Caligula of flavor I determine
there are many great pizzas to try
in this part of town. My stomach
won’t allow for any of them now and
we are leaving on a large boat tomorrow
so it may never happen. But if all
Hell breaks loose, and California
sinks into the ocean and the great
American experiment fails, I know
Vancouver is a viable option.
