Posts
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The Earth and the Sun
I fall asleep reading about duende, reading, radiating duende. That’s what Lorca’s poetry does: it causes my grandmother’s pitched voice to tremble with a terrible softness, like the moon liquified and stored in a jar. -
Soft Clay
she wakes like soft clay,
a notion pressed onto her face
the morning is as blue
as a low-timbered evening.
low enough to sway to,
vibrations etched into cracked lips -
Before you jump
Last night, I went down to the water just before it got dark. I sat on the seawall with my knees close to my chest and smelled the salt. The water was grey, but it reflected the burnished purple of the sky. -
In the Morning
In the Morning, I listened to Classical Music. -
Dying Daisies
what are we but dying daisies?
oh, holy one, one who is whole,
leave me without petals. I'm only
a yellow center ripe with pollen
that has not yet become honey.
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Propped Up Sky
Cycling along the flat cement at sunset, we hear the frog song. It swells, candid and all-consuming. It’s like drinking plain mint tea on a bitter evening. But winter is gone now, we must find our sharpness elsewhere.
Loves
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i can't remember when i last said the pledge of allegiance
i know all the words, of course. who doesn't? we are practically
brainwashed into our knowing, having to stand and face the flag
(when did you learn that it was hand over heart &
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Edge of the world
The edge of the world
is not a finality;
it's a beginning.
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Somedays- In the Style of Mary Oliver
Somedays
are made for shouting the passion of my human condition
from the rooftops.
Do not forget to wonder,
in your busy lives,
at the handsome brown spider
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going today
I’m going today
But as I pack my bags, I
Marvel at the land
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'I am' Poem
When my teachers want to celebrate diversity they try to get us to write 'I am' and 'Where I'm From' poems. This is not something I oppose, but something is lost in the prompting. For them I write the easy apple cider explanations. For you?
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summery/autumnal
summer's like / skips on a record player, pink and beat up by two moving vans and two generations of children who danced to the Bee Gees on / rugs that aren't there anymore / i have successfully wasted three mon