Sunday, May 13, 2012

serenity now

stomp on the girl with cleats, step on her back and break it, she is what wiggles within your spine and saps it of dignity. sometimes strength is in your serenity, when your lips stand up taller than you. the corners of your mouth, the corners of the room, turning up turning over, not wrinkled and falling in. speak with your tongue, and not your teeth. you bite, you bleed me. you don't remember even though you were there. If you're going to be absent-minded, I'd prefer you were absent.
Posted by at

2 comments:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 7
    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...
  • in between
    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...
  • thoughtful hillbillies
    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....
  • the evening peaks
    when we are twisted up together-in blankets and the colors of the outside of our window- are washed out in the storm.
  • sorry
    shake up my heart and flavor your life it is full of holes. you cannot see me for I am brow deep in my old pain and I cannot speak because I...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 5
    Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
  • full of coins
    hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
  • sunflower blues
    for Allen Ginsberg i am not blue. i am a sunflower of more than one color. though i hold too much water until i am green, i am not blue. i a...
  • not funny
    I count the times I laugh in between words that are simply not true. You made me so damn self-aware of how I replaced my tears with laughter...
  • Identity
    I People are more what they do and less what they say, here. Funny then how, their faces are only tongues non-perceiving eyes-deaf, ears bli...

Poets United Contributor