QUILT LUCK

colleen’s house is full of fabric hanging between rooms 
on couches under animals behind rainbow light
the trash is better in minneapolis, once we lowered our bodies 
into a humid death dumpster and i guess that still happens there 
after all this change? lots of gentleman jeans turned summer shorts 
chafing worth the power of a sturdy fray lift hips for take off 
on the garbage bike with the joke lock, no time for vinegar 
oldening i’ve become such a dormant raccoon, bored rat? 
algo-poisoned not fully co-opoted by rich bitch golds tans
skyless sky blues, but less hungry til hungry again
when i remember -- hunger is life! 
look at it like that have not been myself, sick
so more unfiltered water infusions in order, deep pocket
copper vitamins and a cold plunge into the bins 
with sara who was a scary praying mantis sister when
emma and i were young, black buzz cut peasant blouse
sketch book on the stairs, a wisp in smashing pumpkins xxl
charcoal smudge, older enough than us that she didn't feel
like glossing up would fix a thing, mm hmm generational blip
we agree while digging violently, explaining ourselves
what magazines mattered and also how much the magazines
mm hmm changed between father work pants, for her
and mannnnn did it work we could really tell it, feel it
tho we knew it would not work for us, too busy re-taking
the YM quiz, praying to the gods of long's drugs
to make us less red less white, a pre-startup lightbulb
ploy syringe that takes fat from parts of your body
and shoots elsewhere, where would yours go
pinching pinching pinch praying for full transformation
to sparkling sunset freedom fairy, but when?
letters with summer news i saw jason driving his truck 
he waved and swerved, blackout thrill bikini count
we wanted to be something but our hands would not 
stop sweating, once they stopped could we start 
becoming? anyways i went to the bins with sara
like i used to, tho never would have dreamed i’d go with her
but full circle here we are just two women age difference
basically nothing textile bins comes out and the young mean moan
it's like straight up sheets what i’d do for the contents
of their carts, actually i’d do very little it’s not the same 
to steal another man’s conquests and behold i’ve endured
enough atmospheric sleeping bags to reach new depth level
unlocked, plastic cube zipped up glint the good stuff 
hand sewn with yarn ties and the thin weight of sleep after swimming
true colors from truer (?) times, don’t even have to fully unfurl
just bury in the cart because we did it, we scored, i am alive and feeding
my neighbor has a huge plastic christmas candle i covet 
but would not use though that is not what matters it
never was