we smoked pot at the sol lewitt exhibit
we took casual, lurking huffs in the children’s section
this was after we began to understand
that the art was painstakingly reproduced by drafters
and that coffee cost $7 and change.
i like to believe our vapors disintegrated in the room
blooming with the scent of fresh paint and carved wood
body odor and fresh grilled meat
and co-mingled where we were planted in front of grids
mixed with the molecules of paint
no fingerprints
no footprints

en route
driving slowly
we stopped at the moose statue
whispering to trees, ‘you put your roots down in the wrong place,’
knifing cheese
fun dad, i still didn’t tell him the truth


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