M. Hank

I have been told

To put curl cream in my hair

Upside down, eyes 

Straining against the ceiling light,

Curls straining toward the tile floor,

Bunching.

I will smell

We 

     Contain multitudes,

     Infinite differences

     And variations; it is

I’ve been going to a camp called Crow's Path since third grade. 

And even longer before that, but I can’t remember those days. 

People have come and gone, yes, that’s true, 

There's a grapefruit spindrift on the kitchen island where I’m sitting. The digital clock at the top of my Mac Book Air screen reads 9:16 p.m.