a know-nothing non-something,
a song, a back-slap,
a tree without sap.
crowned with ceremony
and melancholia-
a whistle, a snap.
a marriage of two curtains,
initials-a distance-an election
a combination of letters,
matches faceless reflection
that becoming broken glass performs
a mother-father-less C-section.
a little girl.
a broken spine.
I don't give you yours
but you gave me mine.
this inner debate
will it ever diminish?
an ubiquitous start,
an infamous finish.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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Dear, Run. Arrows in your belly and ribs and rear you were once wounded, dear. Limping, Heartsick, Struggling to catch up green from my succ...
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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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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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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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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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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Love is impatient with me. Love is unkind to me. It envies. It boasts. It is so proud. Love was once rude, it sought only itself and then wa...
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strange tree, your flowers look like badminton birdies.
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July 12th My love's hands and eyes so full of surprise! he sees nothing wrong with giving me a synthetic strawberry.
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The Opera The eyes of the firing-squad are aimed with lashed cross-hairs for now we, the chorus, all look like oiled up black ducks in a ro...
Like a beautiful little waltz!
ReplyDeletedigging the rhythm
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