Dec 06
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Oct 24
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The Old Country and the New

I row to an island, pleading
With wine-dark sea to let me pass;
There, I found myself in Eden,
Eden's bliss amid knee-high grass.
I dance and follow the faeries,
Dancing the cycle of the stars;
My labor and leisure buried
Deep in old country, very far:

Away from warmth, away from light,
Light footfalls muffled by the snow,
Snow reflecting flurries at night
I wandered forests no one knows.
Tens of witches live in this wood
Where light can't reach even at noon;
Faeries would escape if they could,
Covens bade them dance beside the moon.
Oct 22
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Three Blind Mice

i’m all alone in this cellar,
and i’m running out of time--
two corpse-pale faces watch me skitter,
six hands counting down my crime.

but another was aroused;
a violet mouse runs across the floor
telling me to leave this house
that soon the guns and sirens will come through the door.

an orange mouse emerges from a hole;
i count the hairs on her nose.
they tell me to leave, but they’re not in control.
after all, i’m the human. they don’t know what i know.

i seize them.
reach for a knife.
Three blind mice, three blind mice,
hey’re squirming now, I’m sure they know the tale.
See how they run and run and run,
i can smell the sweat.
they all ran after the farmer’s wife,
they’re telling me to leave them be,
who cut off their tails with a carving knife,
i’m sure they know the tale.