….what have you noticed… a single simple sentence… no judgment
or meaning-making… just the simple thing …. Pàdraig Ò Tuama
I hear, some mornings she comes downstairs in a dress.
I hear, she has a boyfriend. I notice the young ones sit together,
the thin ones sit together. I hear, I love living near my mother.
I see black cowboy boots, the upturned toes. I notice a scarf
knotted in the front. My scarf is knotted in the back. I see
the young ones’ foreheads touch together. They whisper, they
go out the side door. I notice a gardening hat, that the hat is
a gift, that the gift is worn around the kitchen, the tag still on.
I hear someone say, she’s not even that nice to you. I count
two casseroles of cheesy potatoes. I count two bowls
of potato chips, two different colors. I think, potato potato,
two different pronunciations. I see someone leave before
the food is served. I taste the meat. I taste the pink, plant-
based not-meat. I notice that some of us are pink-faced,
as if the day were warm, that some of us are cool as olives.
I notice a little dog carried in a sling-like purse, then lifted out
and passed around. I hear, the little dog is anxious, I hear,
its owner is anxious. I try to make sense of the purse.
I ask or am asked about upcoming travel, about past
travel, about etiquette at the craps table.
I see one of us is first to spill a drink. I hear someone say,
my mother loves her house, her car, she just loves everything.
When the young ones return through the side door, I smell weed.
I notice how they stand for a minute before sitting.
I hear someone say, it’s a micro-dose, I hear someone say,
it’s the latest thing. I notice I’m feeling judgy, I might be
meaning-making. I hear, it’s already been decided.
I see the little dog has fallen asleep inside the purse.