I started collecting to-want lists last year—my spin on to-do lists that are less about doing and more about daydreaming.
bite-sized meat cubes
soft charred carrots.
no more dreams about pasta sauce
going down bath drains
us running away
towards each other.
Earth: clay and soft. green grass and ginger moss
Wind: nonexistent, to keep the needles on their branches
Fire: a wood-burning stove, endless without blistered hands
Water: 195 to 205 degrees Fahrenheit (for coffee).
Glasses for my 20:20 vision.
I would enjoy looking different
While seeing the same.
Mobility: more in the hips and less
in my hands
on my screen, poking and probing.
An endless scroll
for tired eyes.
scratchiness in the throat: gone
commuter traffic: disappeared
carbon dioxide emissions: nonexistent.
forearm stand: here
mornings held more closely: always
more, more, more sunlight: now
to be brave
and to split
actual to-want lists, knowing what I want
to work with: hands, meaning, a kindness
the belief in: capability
to believe in: anything.
to stop looking up roman numerals charts
to start speaking Japanese (quietly, I am speechless)
And a camp stove
literal: coffee grinder. broom
figurative: all ten toes
in-between: unquestionable love
mornings: light roast
for more caffeine
for more taste.
ski pass / salary pay / sane president
to stop naming hurricanes
humanizing unnecessary death.
Burst beautifully, my red aspens!
anything deciduous in the crumbly light of autumn
one more week , or week-
end adieus and foreign languages
furnished apartments, squeezed
acetaldehyde. cut the booze
add whole milk to cherry coffee
outside of sleep but with rest,
IT band staying loose forever,
losing nothing anymore.
souvenirs from Alaska
living inside of bed curtains
traveling to the woods
a kitchen table
rungs like tree wire
and plastic gold
for apartment: washer dryer, baby grand piano
swiffer wet mop and a drain tub
for the work week: check, check, home-cooked
pasta sauce, home-grown fertilizer
for the rest: elasticity, felicity, mountains
upside down sex
inside out conversations
over-brewed coffee &
what you're not doing is what
I'm not: rushing, 7 hours of sleep
packed bowl and suitcases
frozen bananas, hot coffee, w/o a tooth ache
six miles on a Monday, tempo, w/o tight IT
wires/new lightbulb/ , more stamps/faster USPS
Believing in the beauty of flight
to-go coffee in for-here cups
to cup whatever starlight from new york into hands
orions belt, everything studded with wood chips
airhead bites, sea-salt sugar cubes, bodies of
anything being, deep in it
sweaters without sleeves
coffee with the sleeve
maps. all paper things,
to finish the blanket made of blue yarn.
reconciliation and healing
a road trip: austin to new orleans to savannah
the tent with no fly, the stars, the sturdy mattress pad
wishing/hopeful/believing things do come together
new york as impermanent, less duct tape, more nails
coffee and a cigarette on a side porch
no consequences for actions
a city sight-seeing bus
fresh basil/planting know-hows/a windowsill with sun
a city with sights I want to see
gardens, forests, fields of fire
to deeply connect with every song that exists on earth
(whistle through my teeth, worn hiking boots)
to sew. to mend. to build blankets
An Easy Summer
clarity, violins and steel drums
to finish the japanese book about the sheep
to go to japan, and everywhere else
a 15 mile saturday run and trail head
spring pollen/long lawns/large backpacks
a good conversation. a thick rug. strong, sugary coffee
(outside beers/strappy sandals/dog-watching)
a plan or the spirit to not have one
a money clip. healthy nails
trust & forgiveness
Seasons and associations:
(burning wood/ moments-after-the-storm/ fresh cut grass/ piles of leaves)
Passport and airplane gloves
Speakers and headphones
Pair of skis