wishbone raze every thanksgiving we pull the wishbone from our turkey and leave it on the kitchen window_sill. when it's dried out, we each grab one of the fused clavicles with our little fingers and pull it apart. last year it was my turn to make a wish. the year before that it was his turn. my wish came true. his hasn't yet. this year our turkey had no wishbone. that's never happened before. and now i'm seeing forked bones everywhere. clear v-shapes in twigs and configurations of fallen leaves. i wait for the world to make a wish. i hope i'm in it. 211017 ... raze we made another turkey for easter. last night we wrapped the fifth digits of our dominant hands around opposite ends of the furcula, closed our eyes, and made new wishes. we pulled until our pinkies shrieked with pain. the bone wouldn't break. we tried again today. this time the rigid tissue split in two. my piece was just a hair longer than his. i made my wish for both of us. now i wish i'd made it just for him. 220422 what's it to you? who go blather from