Posts
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Sign Yellow
A city made of almost broken bricks:
sign yellow,
and dingy pizza parlors.
There are less people walking on the streets,
and more cracks in the pavement.
The fluorescent yellow blares, -
The Disco Floor
My socks are socializing on the bedroom disco floor.
It’s a party and we are dancing to chaos.
I belted my song last night,
tone deaf
and rythamless.
Everything is screaming. -
(metaphorically)
I never went to church.
Yet I write about God.
(metaphorically)
I don’t know why
I still capitalize the G.
A tourist crying in a cathedral,
I feel like an imposter -
Impasse
My body is the sea.
A single star shines through my window,
a counterpoint to the writhing in my belly.
With the sternness of a sculpted horse,
I address the sky:
Where we meet, -
Writer's Block
I turn squares into circles.
Because life can not be summarized by rational geometry.
I hammer clean angles,
till their points are blunt enough
to cut silence.
Poetry is wide and woolen. -
Bath Water
Revolution is a bathtub hobby of mine.
I let my steam collect on the sticky green ceiling.
The water grows tepid,
as I thunder through bloody thoughts.
Gold half glimpsed through darkness,
Loves
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1st day of school
"Tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it yet." ~ L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
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The Stories in Lines
In each person, there’s a story,
one you may or may not know,
but in every person,
there are hints of their long story,
such as in their beauty.
Around their mouth,
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cardiac
last week, my brother dropped his heart
on the pavement and we both
watched as it cracked right open,
spilling in red ribbons and golden gears