All the thoughts you never see.

You are always thinking.

Eldest Son called me at 10 am Sunday morning. That's 6am his time. After a few minutes of conversation, I paused. "So are you stoned or drunk?" I asked him. "Moooom" he exhaled impatiently. "I don't smoke pot anymore." Oh. That makes me feel better. How Irish of him, to drink, then call his mother.Brain is wide, brain is deep- oh tell me, are you sinking?

Vegan Girl and her boyfriend have bought a motorcycle. I saw it last night, when I went to pick up my farm share, sitting in their driveway like a shiny black tombstone. Neither one of them is very big, though VGBoyfriend would probably be ok on it. But- that means she'd be riding on the back. No. Nononononooooo.I just stopped worrying about her. See the waves on distant shores- awaiting your arrival.

Middle Son has let his hair grow long, for the first time ever. He's been decamped, following the Further Festival around Pennsylvania and such. His hair is quite lovely- long, thick and wavy. His cousins call him "Handsome Shrek." I believe he is closer to lost, spinning like a compass needle trying to find True North. He'll not find it till he stops the carousing. It's a long ocean he has to cross. See the path cut by the moon, for you to walk on.

Youngest Son is working. Working eating sleeping. He never has time to call, or stop by. But he made time to come to his grandparents house last Monday, hang out with his young cousins. It was odd to hear them, all in their early 20s, discussing their facial hair, the quickest way to grow a beard,shaving techniques. The next day, he called after work to say how much he had enjoyed being with the family- as a young adult, not "the baby" or the youngest, or the screw-up. Just....him. Look for love in evidence, that you're worth keeping.

It is still very much summer here. The days are hot and humid and thick, the weight of them pushing you down as if to tell you: pay attention to the bugs. The rains come, day after day, and the days stick together like the shirt to your back, peeling another August day off your skin in the shower, washing it away with lemon-scented body wash. This morning, at 5:45a.m., a light snapped on in the upstairs apartment of the kid who lives over the pizza parlor. A minute later, he was out the door, walking his dog, then back inside, and within two or three minutes, he was clattering down the wooden fire-escape stairs, into his car, just two red eyes receding in the cloudy dawn. I sat on the porch in my nightgown and sipped my coffee, wondering what it was that kept me from morning efficiency. And I sipped again.



TWO POEMS
by Aaron Belz

La Vie

It rains, il pleut, all over
my grounds. It blows,
le vent, the treetops around.

I love mon papillon
as she's waking up
among twisted sheets;

I love ma belle
as she grinds beans
for our morning cup.

Cher vent, come sow
your thoughts in the ground.
Bring us de l'eau,

coarse trees, fresh streets,
white lies—old hat
under these new skies.


Alberto VO5

The thing I like best
about Alberto VO5
Extra Body Shampoo
is not that it contains
nutrients, nor even
that it contains shine-
enhancing nutrients,
but the graceful way
it contains them—
which is the same way
you carry bitter regret,
my love, invisibly,
allowing it to work
its way naturally
through my hair.