Holiday Weekends, or What is a Holiday
Dear Everyone who reads these poems: I wish there were a way to invite all of you. Maybe there is.
We celebrate everything every single holiday inviting people over to eat. People are my flowers, my trees, my oceans. We cook and they cook and we all drink Peter often makes his holiday drink mangos and tequila Bruce sautes a green no one's heard of he uses his own garlic we sit together somewhere knowing this is Memorial Day or another Memorial Day when what we want what we always want is to invite people over to eat.