things I can never find when I'm looking for them

 stapler

scissors 

the right size bandaid

the thing for the thing

form I need in my glove compartment to show the guy or buy the replacement

exact page in the car owner's manual to fix it or understand it

social security card

other charger

good hand warmers

readers

freezie guy

my son's vaccine records

the name of that song I love so much

or movie

or actor

or thing that happened in the 80s

word document

email I need 

thing that attaches to the rug cleaner or vacuum 

paper to write down the phone number (confirmation number) you are giving me

instructions 

house repair paperwork/records

someone's business card that I desperately need, that would solve everything 

my son's dorm address

receipt for the

a reliable handyman

that old perfect tee shirt I used to love that I probably gave to Savers before I realized how good it was

Cerave hand stuff 

instructions for the thing that keeps breaking and I keep forgetting how to fix

the thing that was just right in front of me

the thought I was just about to tell you

community vegetarian dinners nearby

neighbors I can hang out with or at the very least talk to

vegetarian restaurant

sleep

50+ yoga class for idiopathically mobility restricted people who grieve their super limber old bodies

some kind of any kind of doctor or any kind of anyone who can fix it

the perfect comeback

my new best friend

my new community 

my new life

new therapist

friends from childhood

any trace of the hippie alternative school I went to as a kid

my memories

my dreams

the best day of my life

my infant son who is now 19 but still just one more day would be nice

old voice mails

the perfect anything

that bouncy neon cat toy that will occupy them for at least a short while

patience

poem I want to share with students and everyone

proof

the proof I said I had, 

said i wrote down

that elusive text that disappeared,

always disappears

myself before 2017

myself in general

my better slippers

a place in MN to go where I haven't been that's better than the North Shore

whatever it is I think I'm missing

time

more time

a longer day

foreverness

reread your old writing and root for yourself again (and again) which is why you wrote it down in the first place even if you didn't know it

 I just found a poem I posted 9 years ago on another blog that I forgot about and it made me cry and be happy and grateful I wrote it down because I was there for me. And now here for me there, then, now.  You may not appreciate it when you write it, you may think it's bad or clunky or pretentious or whatever... but it is you and you wrote it down for you (and you may as well love it because what else ultimately, i mean what's the alternative?)  and someday, yearsdays away, like the words I'm writing now, you will come across it on some vague Wednesday afternoon and be so endeared to it you'll want to step between the lines of time and give yourself a hug.  

I Remember How Ice Skating is Like This 

and now walking is like this

skidding and gripping and slipping and cramping all cartoon like and

reaching for the wall

for relief
for safe harbor
for gratitude

to rest (oh thank god I can stay here forever i don't have to skate anymore i hate this i want off  these skates make my feet fall in all funny and what's wrong with me that's not how Lisa's skating, but Lisa has a skating skirt so that must be why, but fuck it, my feet are falling into themselves and I am going to fall and break my head and my ankles and my calves feel like shishkabob and please let me just hang on this wall forever until it's time to go or better yet let's slide skate all the way to the open part and crawl on the wet felt neon blackbluered floor until you realize hey I can take these things off hallelujah!)

and i look for the wall on dry land
my good leg leading the way, a loyal dog
until we reach the counter, the wall, the doorknob...
only now the wall gets hot and burns up and so do the canes
and we all go down: canes, good leg, bad leg, me
sacrificed on the pick

and now walking is like this

and I worship my good leg and
I worship my two canes, one silver, one copper, mismatched in girth and height who
I've grown to love like letters of the alphabet

who I miss dearly and long for when they are out of sight or reach

because without them I am ice skating

and now walking is like this

it hit me hard today, again and again, over and over, clear as winter morning

and now walking is like this