westerns are a language
I’m not fluent in
but I want to go back
stand in the middle
of a dusty main street
we all want to be a child again
even the worst of us
perhaps the worst most of all
two pale yellow scorpions
writhing in red ants
in the books we'll say
the time before Covid
and the big question mark
following
there were clothes on the line
there was the smell of the basement
there was affirmation
in our joblessness
there was screen poisoning
and time travel
to your childhood home
I don’t miss
the places I used to go
or the way I would go to them
gripping ambient worry
boring concern
I long to try
something I've never had
shedding a time
when the questions
were theoretical
