Category: Poetry

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To be Human

  There are so many concepts I don’t understand so many theories I can’t fathom I don’t know little things like the number of people in my town or whether my maternal side is republican or otherwise. I don’t know what it’s like to be a black woman, or

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Die Traumdeutung

  Once I was chased by Swastik gents and big boned ladies. The ladies wielded buckets of rotting salmon, I remember specifically, because I hate salmon. The gents wielded extroversion and I couldn’t bear that either.

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To Be New and to Yearn

  O, to be new and to yearn; when my burden is dreams untamped untoppled inevitably unwise, leftover evergreen haystacks upon bamboo and bits of forest, sun filled powdered sugar dreams with no good reason except for every reason.

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Fingers Reach for Moon

  In the darkness I drape legs over the back of the bench rest back upon the wooden planks. Arms unleash and dissolve to the ground, fingers spread to caress velvet Grass. The curl of the seat tilts chin to Stars who moan beneath Shroud. I sing along. Wind captivates waterfall hair and Earth waits. We are breathless.

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Mountain Grows Taller

  As Earth groans and shivers I observe Mountain grow taller; the childbearing summit, too many spines to count in a single lifetime, she sees me. So small below. She gathers Wind and bids him go to me. He whistles through my hair, disrupting cyclical thoughts, for a spell, with gusts of play, then rises and rejoins her. She invites Sunlight in for tea … Read More Mountain Grows Taller

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My Dreams are the Dew

My dreams are the dew on the morning grass and the sound of the drops ‘neath the leaping grasshopper. It seems the cold darkness of a swallowed night blessed the condensation of what deeply matters; that which shines bold against the thousand thrashing insects. I wish I could say thank you, say anything, really, but the sunshine is blossoming over my closed eyelids and … Read More My Dreams are the Dew

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Contemplating Goats

Goats climb high on bamboo branches attempt to avoid the electric fence and I’ve got to say we have that last bit in common. Their switch is to my left and I flick it off. I wonder to whose left is my switch. It’s consistently on— a quick jolt on the left arm, a sharp buzz through the kneecap I don’t know the pattern … Read More Contemplating Goats

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Solar Powered Rubber Duck Hurricane

I’m a solar powered rubber duck hurricane; I charge in that purity and I do not stay submerged for long, I have no fear of what you might name me nor can I drown in your thoughts of inadequacy;

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What You Need to Know

Here’s the thing about saving my life; I’ve wandered about for far too long to just hand over the chain to this anchor to give you the key to my bike lock to introduce you to my journals. I’m an uncracked egg, eh, and I

Mutual Misconceptions

I share some commonalities with their misconceptions; (we both think) I am naive and blind when it comes to international news and various accords in varying shades of political drama. (We both think) I am perhaps too hopeful for my own good, (too much a dreamer to watch the traffic as I should). (We both think) I have grown up in a world which … Read More Mutual Misconceptions

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Dimples Sing Songs

Those dimples sing songs galactic songs dance tall and open sport their own sleeves tow their own bullet holes. God never looked so gold celestial seasoning dip low in the sky I stroke a blade the whole field jiggles. No lead sheet please too busy jiving see the animals they chop silly we giggle loudly. I coulda zipped a bit tighter but what did … Read More Dimples Sing Songs

Not Your Run-of-the-Mill Pee

It happened while I was emptying the tank in the city center train station bathroom my pink backpack clinging to life on the silver handle kicking up legs so as not to touch lava.