"I'm sorry I was late, I was having trouble with my toga."
I gush about this place and I should stop. It's silly how much I like it, how proud I get over even our ribbon-cutting because we had students do the honors.
Tonight, exhaustion, major but after my raisin tarts arrived and made a happy night for their recipient: a major, serious foodie with that indie-musician/Aussie pro-chef ala Hell's Kitchen nonplussed, unimpressable manner, to be asked For A Recipe...well, I am feeling like a rockstar.
Desert Poem ONE
The loneliest road defeats its ranking. Who knows it who
hallelujahs thick air. Thicket of
green air, red air
mountains won’t movie you, little
man. That’s love,
that’s old steel, what
power
towers, flat land & each
able engineer we’ve known to bits— Josiah, two
trinkets, still
reel, what
crosses Texas in a low-slung solar car or
vexes next— here’s that
piece of us,
our eggy hunk. Josiah,
we hate or think we should hate
all of Amarillo.
---Stacy Kidd
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