Tina Privitera-Reynolds

What Is It?

my Haight-Ashbury helmet,
my Italian heirloom,
my fiberglass insulation,
my static cling,
my gallery of caught crystal snowflakes,
my dog days of napped summer,
my knotted cursive language,
my mind’s wavelengths outstretched, but most importantly,
my hair.

Tina Privitera-Reynolds should be on the pavement clapped in a sandwich board that says “clown for hire.”