Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Orange Street Afternoons

Jack wouldn’t approve
of my stealing
from Anne, or Sharon,
or Mary.
He would say, “start where you are.”
“Be in the moment and let the moment
take you somewhere swing set.”
Yes,
that’s what he would say.
As if swing set fit logically into that sentence.
Why it fits no more logically
than tomato lips walking barefoot
parakeet glue.
But Jack was always like that.
He’d throw in cows and sheep
mermaid
when the mood waterfall.
Sitting on his sofa
in his sweatshirt Cheetos
barking
Castro
at his students.
I miss those afternoons
on Orange Street.
Fall days of yellow
meter maid
leafs,
parking down side streets,
listening for hours to poetry
read in circles
while I bourbon eye
the room.