(in free verse)

 

I would rather do cartwheels

handsprings

triple toe loops and

quadruple axels

down a stretch of old asphalt

in the Arizona desert

in a bikini with

no sunscreen on this amazing

blindingly white

sun-resistant

Irish-Scottish-German-Cherokee-Sioux-Iroquois

already sunburned skin

in the scorching heat of

Mid-July

with no source of water nearby

with crowds of people watching

as the asphalt gives way to sharp gravel

and I end my

ill-advised gymnastic extravaganza

with a triple backflip-somersault-twist

and land in the splits

than clean one more thing in this house today.

There is an unholy and desperately sad kind of amusement in preparing for a steak a poivre dinner while simultaneously making lemon-blackberry tarts (to be posted soon!) and having to run back to the computer to be reminded of how to bake a potato.

Pregnancy, thy name is brain-dead.

[14:54] <@Ali> no, there’s a stone you bake bread in your oven on
[14:54] <@Ali> wow
[14:55] <@Ali> let me try that again
[14:55] <@Ali> there’s a stone upon which you bake bread in your oven
[14:56] <@Cal>  Ali: Stupid prepositions! Complicating up where words go in!
[14:56] <+Sindri> A preposition is a terrible thing to end a sentence with.
[14:58]  <@yellowgoat> Preposition placement is something I never much cared for.
[14:59] <@Ali> As long as it’s not superfluous, it doesn’t matter overly much to me where people put their prepositions at.