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 Miss a Place That Doesn't Exist
For a long time
I'd have vivid dreams,
bursts of REM that gave me the illusive bliss
of being wherever
and the closest return
to the mind of a child
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The To-Do List of a Rising Senior
- email admissions counselor
- make common app account
- july 8 AP scores
- learn after effects
- saturday lead tiger class
- 10 assignment/wk gov; 6 assignment/wk econ
- pick up hospital badge and parking pa
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migration
i, like many poets, have wondered a million times what it would be like to be a bird: soaring high above the trees, unburdened by life's banal worries. something primal and free.
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cutting fruit
the sound of laughter through sun-spotted trees,
i dreamed last night we were fae frolicking
in rings of toadstools, in and out of trees.
fireworks went off in my head as
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on the off-road?
two weeks ago we were stuck in the plains
somewhere in the midwest with no service. you pulled out
some 1999 AAA member's map and said
"crack it open," and i still loved you, even then. words flowed
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Spring
One very nice afternoon I went on a walk through the swampy wet woods to see the very pretty and soothing river flow on my way there I met this very cute and nice rabbit she said her name was Synthia, Synthia had walked with me to the river to wat