;
It has no pondered
purpose. No prayer.
No be
-ginning,
midd
-led end.
But the phrase
indoor fins
wanted a place to be,
so she builds it a
word-salted
home,
a storm
drain,
a
sea.
..
The phrase ‘indoor fins’ is another Shawna-ism.
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Excited about swimming in houses!
Hee hee hee. This is PERFECT! 🙂
Wonderful! How often I have thought the same thing….perhaps a list will do?
As if Antigone knew
the sea wanted
to see how flicker-fire
was a bent low
sweet chariot poem
of what the senses do
when the tides
come in …
—————-
I love reading your poems … To me
they’re emotionally tactile
joyous claims …
I love how close “a storm drain” is, to “a storm De-ranged.” 🙂 Ooh, that would be a good poem title, too: a storm, deranged.
Also, all words that begin with “dr,” I mentally morph into “Dr.” something or another, whether using letters beside or below. So here, I see “doctor (verb) a sea.” This sounds like magical healing, to me. There’s a little bit of crockpot witchcraftery, but also medicine woman. Good and evil, but only mild evil, let’s hope.
The womb is a crockpotty witchcrafty kind of cookery, is it not …? 😉
Oh, most definitely. Mommies are the best kind of witches. 🙂
I adore the thought of building a home for a phrase that seeks shelter, that must find it’s place. 💟
I love it.