good_as_new kerry when corinna was moving to seattle she took almost nothing with her. i drove her to the greyhound station and waited with her until the bus arrived. she waved goodbye to me as she boarded, one arm cradling a houseplant, her backpack full of poems. she left me some of her things: some books, a pothos in a blue and white ceramic planter, a hefty end-grain cutting board i’d admired when a group of us had a potluck at her house. i told her it was too nice, take it with you somehow, and she said maybe someday we’ll end up in the same place, take care of it for me in the meantime. she also said before too long the pothos would need a bigger pot and i’d have to shatter the planter to free it since there wasn’t a hole at the bottom. it lived in the bathroom, thrived in the humidity. when it was time, i managed to dig the pothos out with my hands, save the planter. now the planter sits on the marble windowsill, brimming with rosette succulents. when we moved, i left the pothos with sam but kept a vine for myself. it grew and was divided, one half died and the other was divided again. i gave a cutting to the_houseguest when she arrived in philly. later that summer, after corinna moved, i was at sam’s house in south town. she’d invited me over to make pastries, but i wound up watching as she assembled them, weaving together ribbons of dough and filling the pastries with jam. i told her about the cutting board, how it felt criminal to keep it. i said surely i’d find some way to destroy it, the wood would dry out eventually, it was too nice to be in my kitchen. once the pastries baked, we left them to cool and went outside, picked blackberries by the train tracks. we ate some right off the vine, put others in a bowl. back in her kitchen she rinsed them in the sink and said, you know, i actually think i can help you with the cutting board. she handed me a jar of what looked like honey, then took it back, wrote something on the lid. it’s feed-n-wax, she said. when the board dries out just rub this over it. easy peasy, good as new. it’s been years since. the board became dull and covered in scratches. tonight was an empty kind of night. i listened to mazzy star while i washed the dishes and then stood in the kitchen, looking for something to do. then i remembered the feed-n-wax. she was right. easy peasy, good as new. 220208 ... nr best_as_old 220209 what's it to you? who go blather from