Oregon

I was once in Arizona

and felt

the dry heat

and perspiration clinging

to my back like an eager

first love fond

of checking in constantly

insecure

to be sure

I’m not going to leave her

for a milder climate.

I’ve heard that in

Oregon it rains

and the trees grow tall

and the bars

in Portland are better than

those in any other

city and I

would be so happy

there and so fulfilled

like nowhere else

because the rains are art

and the rains are music

and the rains are

beer

and the trees grow tall they grow green they

grow green and it’s all so green

you could die.

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