Posts
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musings of an unrefined philosopher
I am a poet. I take the words and I turn them on their heads until the juice runs out. It is red and sweet, like strawberries. I sit cross-legged on lilypads, watching meaning watercolor itself onto the pond. I rust like clockwork in the rain.
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purim
It is a joyous day
amidst a burdened world.
We cluster around stand mixers like crows
to telephone wire, make holy messes
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poem written before the coming cold
& the sun through the windows & a clapping song playing
on the speakers, 45 degrees outside & almost sunny
& nothing to do, well, a lot to do, but the sun through the windows
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(you smell of)
new converse, christmas lights strung up til march, arcade pizza glistening with grease, red hair dye, burnt-off fog, rain, i think, or the dew on grass, dark lip stain, tracks in fresh snow, heavy vanilla, old lemon peel, pink ribbons forgotten o
Loves
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My Flashlight is Flickering
It is a terrible thing when
democracy
kindness
peace
is taken away.
I think it must be almost worse when that pain becomes dull aBruise
That won’t go away.
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Ballet Barre
releve
To rise
glissade
To glide
allonge
To stretch
Reach
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Peace
I find peace in simple things that are small. One thing that brings me peace is lying outside on the grass with my mom. We both really like to watch the clouds and tell each other the shapes or animals that we see.
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Numbers and Statistics
Convinced that their democracy
Is the only democracyMy brethren fall heavily into the rubble
A reflection of my own clay,
A memory of our shared fire. -
The Cabin Will Be Gone
Once upon a time,
there was a cabin.
It was not big,
it was not grand,
but it was ours.
Our great-grandparents built it so many years ago,
they wanted a cabin that would be passed down for generations.
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