when I was a little girl
I was taught
try your hardest to avoid
any difficult knot.
Tie your ties loosely.
So loosely they hang to the sides
stay as close to the shore as you can
to avoid swimming against tides.
But I have found that my stomach needs
to feel the thrill of the fall
and that my pupils never dilate
when I'm in between large and small.
When I am the middle
When I am in between
all my thumbs will do is twiddle.
When I am in the middle
I feel too little.
When I am in the middle
the mountains never move
when I am in the middle
there is nothing to prove.
They'll teach you-
There is an up
and there's a down
but
try to find the middle.
And in between lost and found
that's where you find the middle ground.
But I need to either be
high or low
I don't want to
the middle go.
I can't have in between
I must have yes or no.
Tickle your toes. . .
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The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
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husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner.... -
Golden tendrils on her shoulder no rhyme, no reason, just getting older her half-pint work of exhaltation now serves as mere constant frustr...
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wide-eyed and curious, he peeks from his shell with seaweed speckles, where 8 monarch butterflies landed permanently. he puts his footing on...
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Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
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hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
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A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
Poets United Contributor
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