Revisiting Laura Ingles Wilder, autumn leaves in our new lovely Linden Hills, burritos (and breasts), existential detectives, bonnets, & finally the grand Mississippi. Stef and her sister Elizabeth visited me here in Minnesota this weekend. We are are our own Polish version of Wilson-Phillips as they walk me to class this Monday morning. We are filled with an unusual energy & laughter when we are placed in my truck and are forced to parellel park in front of an audience.
"My trachea!" I gasp painfully- constricted from laughter and tears. Almost anything is funny by this point and Stefanie's laugh echoes in a theater. We celebrate the Mississippi & get lost on a one way road treading the perimeter of a large lake. I have no idea where it comes from but it becomes the vortex of Minnesota- lined with rust colored trees & a setting sun. I would say that my apartment is quiet tonight without them. But there is a man in the alley singing RENT songs with his complete lung capacity. I am A Street Car Named Desire. I am satisfied. I am in love. I see possibility. I laughed so hard I cried. I've been dating you for two years. I thank you. I miss you already.
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