I pull out my battered notebook
grip the pen
a motorboat buzzes by
waves slosh under the dock
suck on the pole-like pilings
underneath it
the scent of slimy greenness
wafts up on hot air
bend over the page
remembering questions Blas and I
thought up
better start with easy ones
leave Evie’s suggestion about Lucy’s
crazed dog-hating dad out for now
my pen drops blobs of blue ink on the page: