i miss the way southerners say certain words.

when i was getting a backcountry permit, the ranger asked me what kind of vehicle to register for trailhead parking.

'it's, uh, a honda cb500...'

he paused and looked up at me from the computer, an eyebrow raised. 'you rode your mow-der-sah-kull here? from pittsburgh?'


'what an edvaynchur,' he said, laughing as he punched in my license plate.

i once asked someone where he was from, and he said, 'booooone, nath kehlahnuh.'

it's a soft drawl i'll slip back into in certain contexts, like i'm pretending that the three years i spent after i was born in north georgia had any effect on my linguistic habits.

but i always say, 'hey, y'all,' when i'm addressing a room of people i hardly know.

19 June 2018 01:14

i take it back

i take back the things i've said about previous days that were hot.

i take them back in anticipation of future hot days.

where my forearms rest on the counter, they stick; i shift my skin, and feel the hot patch left behind.

i sweat more than my water glass.

in despair, i stare at the thermometer; in the time since i got home, the temperature in this room has only risen, as the heat wafting from my exothermic body fills the space.

this seems unfair.

only hotter days will come.

17 June 2018 23:53