Tag: poetry

22 Pounds of Wishes

I have 22 pounds of wishes hidden among the weeping wisteria.

The flowers by the pond have been melancholy a long time.

I drink with them.

Look at Lily’s tattoos.

Kind of abstract, don’t you think?

I’ve been told some people are really into that.

But the roses and I share the best laughs because we know it is not about pattern

but all about color and that soft, sweet texture on the fingerpads.

Meanwhile the snapdragons do deep, twisted math at the waters edge

and I drop a wish in the water.

 

End of Time

I wear a necklace of thirst.

My forehead is emblazoned with

The idea is in the umbilical cord.

My shoes light up.

I cannot walk without marching,

Dance without dreaming,

Scream without reading.

I carry a satchel of books.

The first one reads,

In the aftermath are bunnies and prose.

The second reads,

Math is Armageddon.

The third reads,

Armageddon was yesterday. The aftermath

Is bunnies and prose.

Burning Suburbia

Blue light is not chasing

my soul.

Shades of slate and gun metal pursue me

in a way the other women wrapped in their profiles and friends

would understand more than they want to believe.

 

Our spirits dream while we say,

How much? That’s too much.

I have to have her there by 3.

We need to get away. It is never just us.

 

In the suburbs I drive over hillock after hillock

again and again,

for bread and milk,

my fingers searching beneath my skirt for something so dirty it is clean,

so corrupt as to be pure.

Shades of Blue

So many shades of blue,

No Blue

Circumference Blue

Film Strip Friday Blue.

I wore a flimsy film strip to the Blue Ball.

Cobalt courted me.

Yellow felt alienated.

Yellow did not go.

Green was the doorman.

My friendship with Sky and Navy and Aquamarine

Has taught me how to talk with my eyes.

Nothing is louder than blue eyes,

Staring at me from the corner with the

Blossoming wallflowers,

Saying,

Dance with me.