603p monday, 30th march, 2020

wanting to want to do something
anything
becoming frustrated at every turn
every avenue blocked
each first becoming more
and more tentative.
timid.
i give up.
the phone in the half-inch of dirty dishwater was it.
tearing at the case to free my phone
fumbling it nearly to the floor
a soft, sharply inhaled shriek
what what what RICE
WHERE IS THE RICE
is that even what you’re supposed to do is it
I have wild rice mix does it matter?
gods it’s dusty that can’t be good for it.
try the phone, the speaker sounds shit oh FUCK.
…
leave it.
Leave it for hours. Let go.
Knit, a little, can you?
Would you?
Where? there are the stitches Mike made. Soft, soothing, remembering his hands in the wool.
…
you’ve texted everyone, overtexted.
emailed; overemailed.
…
It’s almost six. Nearly eight hours.
…
seems fine.
gingerly, reaching out.
soothed, analysis of the situation intact.
depression, surely, and not for no reason,
I mean
Not like it needs a reason but COME ON.
…
watching this cycle happen in real time
but slowed down
(how could it be slowed down I was right here I SAW IT HAPPEN)
talking through it
(in real time I think maybe that is so much a part of it we were talking actually
Talking.
)
…
And now?
Medicated.
Writing.
Vomiting up all the toxic fury.
Expelling it and becoming clean by its expulsion.
…
Even. Buoyed,
if not buoyant.