Instructions for the Next Incarnation

If you come back as a human,

start by tasting the dust in a church basement.

Befriend the janitor.

Remember the long summers

of plastic pitchers,

bug bites,

and chlorine hair.

Don’t get too good at memory.

Practice losing keys and

gathering rain in a cracked bowl.

Love the things that leak.

Bequeath what you cannot fix.

During your trip, tell no one

you almost understand

the language of power lines,

how they hum

when the moon is full and above,

how the 7-11s flicker breezily underneath.

Keep one pocket empty

at all times just to get a taste of what

liberty feels like.