Rolling out of a soul, I squish my teeth against the wall. Fidelity is a good example of how the internet has changed tomorrow. Loyal to my childhood, I spark some sort of emotional issue. My life tethered to a new world.
Author: Lisa Marie
Suggested
Seashore of officials. Miami has been a bad choice. Winter writers flutter like they were born to make their children feel so strange. The law has changed since I was a reptilian woman. I have laid my eggs in front of my hourglass. Children – they slide into chambers, sew themselves suits. Why comb a bald beach of boiling beer?
Digital Scrapbooking
Green Code
The grass is a code.
I can’t read it,
But I know the rabbit
Hiding against my fence can.
That’s why he’s hiding
What I do know is
That the flower’s teeth
Have been chattering
All morning.
The hawk is tethered
To his nest.
He is of no concern
The chemicals will move
With grace
A gentle burning
That lulls life away.
A Taste of the Empty Nest
I HAVE EMPTY NEST SYNDROME! Okay, it is less severe than what those in later life experience when there’s no one to even come home from school – but I’ve got it bad. When I go to the bathroom there’s no one opening the door to chat with me. When I read a book there is no one to interrupt me. I could literally read a book in one sitting now. I haven’t done that since Angelica was born. I’d rather be interrupted.
It has been hard to read or write at all still. I get home from dropping her off and I just clean and clean and clean.
Changing Landscape
The monsoon
Hit the desert hard
He had been through
So much,
But this?
Life smokes some weed
And doesn’t care.
Drowning in fluorescent
Torrents,
Sand looks for a way
Out.
Explode
My tectonic youth
is subducting.
I explode on my paper house
as a black cherry ash
Particles of my personality
Swell
up
like a flooded
Well.
If I wasn’t so brilliant
I would drown.
The diamonds forming
Under my tongue save me
And tell a story of fun.
Eating Men
My sheath is made of leather.
I am a woman.
I am a knife.
Tonight I will dine
on an industrial
Dynasty,
eating in the workspace
of men –
Eating men.
Iron rising from my pulse
To the air
I see my doppelganger –
The pregnant cat
Luring the mouse.
This is part of my project to write poems that pair with colors and textures, or the other way around.
Empty House
Angelica has started school, and it feels beyond strange. My beautiful baby girl isn’t at home with me anymore. I dropped her off at school this morning and now here I am – sitting on the porch swing with no one to cuddle. Angelica always follows me to the porch swing to cuddle.
She was psyched on her first day. She woke up super early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I got to walk her to the gate, and then into the playground. I cried. I tried to stop myself, and I held the worst of it back for later, but I cried. Her teacher was really sweet. She passed around tissue packets to parents and included a sweet little poem about leaving your child with their teacher.
I went to a breakfast to meet other moms. They seemed very nice. Volunteers are needed in Angelica’s classroom. I need to figure out what I can commit to. They are seeking weekly volunteers, as well as party plans. The only party I might be good at is a Halloween party, and it looks like they won’t do those, so I’m out of party planning. I might read to the class.
I know Angelica will learn a lot, make friends, learn new skills, and have fun. Craig and I made the right decision. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t have tears in my eyes right now.
Praying she has a good year.
The Scene
…waiting for a train
Rolling a die
On the brink
Of greatness
…on the tracks
Dust of the less fortunate
…across town
Someone waits for him
There are salty crimes
To be answered for
he slips into the sun
Miniature Moon 