We Can Make Something New

8/27/25

Studio 7 - First Hill, Seattle

Hello Again,

My twin sister visited last week but instead of making a plan we allowed her single day in Seattle to unfurl naturally ahead of us -- my dog and I met her at the airport light rail station before we meandered whichever way we wanted. It reminded me of what you said last summer, maybe when you were cleaning the apartment before your little brother was supposed to come up from LA: "I am free. When I want to go outside, I go outside. I don't need to be anywhere."

Although sometimes it is nice to be wanted. You pulled a box of your childhood journals from under your bed & I read your sweet and curious loneliness. Turns out your brother never planned his trip, and you didn't want or need to be with anyone, and I had to leave you alone for a long time.

People do want and need you, but you have to pay attention. Fly across the country to visit their condo, go on the road trip with them, meet the newborn members of your family. Wash your sheets for him, or meet his childhood best friend, or meet up for wings on Wednesday. I had to leave you alone for a long time after I got mad (I know I hurt you, too) and because a lot of other people needed me just as much as you. But now I'm here again. I see you. We can make something new.

Free Advice, $10 PHOTOS

The morning makes them wait.

A father and his boy wade,

grasp fishing poles, watch

water polo players

*

swim drills in Coleman Pool.

A chainlink fence & Coach’s

whistle tug their lines until

the escape, slacken. Another lap.

*

A seasoned surfcaster observes

from behind his fold-up table

of homemade lures. His labrador

saunters off-leash to the waves.

*

As the slimy rockweed hardens

in the sun, the men confess

to the gulls while noon

shines onto shoreline stones.

*

Adidas sneakers soak

in the tidepools even if

they roll both pantlegs

up. Everyone

*

deserves what they desire but

not yet. A sunbather decides

on the embankment to amble

into the deep & let the salt in

*

And the novice fishermen re-bait

their hooks and the dog returns

to the master’s sign in the sand.

I'm developing some food content to write here on Vocal throughout the fall. While last year I leaned the delightful, sweet, and indulgent -- I tried Dua Lipa's Jalapeño Pickle Diet Coke, made Autumn BBQ with Bourbon with my friend, dragged my pals to 7 Sweet Spots to Celebrate National Dessert Day in Seattle, and wrote you a poem called Plums -- now I'm inspired to return to the basics.

I'm thinking about Salt. Natural, durable, sharp. Let's start again together. Before it gets too cold can we visit the market, select the perfect vegetable and a slab of meat to season simply and savor. Thanks to you I've developed a taste for things more rare, allowing the flavors and textures to sit in my mouth before chewing. Do you like your Salt flaky? From the Sea? Mixed with Garlic Powder? When you taste it, what memory do you think of? I want to know -- write something about Salt and share it with me, please.

But now I have to go. Looking forward to hearing from you,

Joe

P.S. I wanted to tell you -- my book of short fiction is available everywhere! Would you like a copy? You can get it online at Amazon or Barnes & Noble or ask your local independent bookstore to order it for you. I hope you like it!