51st Avenue NW
a lunch of purple Kool-Aid in a small milk bottle and a sandwich wrapped in paper towel
packed in a produce bag
on the stoop or just inside by the screen door
scrapping nicked panes of orange beads
working on ledges
the cabinets are brown wood
a yellow haze is wetted and scrubbed through layers of linoleum
beneath we wade through subconscious debris not belonging to present company
we stomp into the grassland where Thursday’s scavenge is prone to photo degradation
there are also gopher holes without gophers
a bin becomes a mountain while the surroundings are combed and trimmed
then more dust before we can get away with less of it
we leave a newly sealed envelope still coated in particles