Curious Content 

(Titles Remix: another poem gone rogue) 

We are most mad 
about the ice(box) poem(s), 
the flibbertigibbet foldability of 
Phoenix rising – 

All that flirting
with disaster, humming 
schwa and counting all joy 
(conspiring with dragons). 

(wild girls) 
breathe like (wee) origami dragons, 
making sense of sunrise, making 
much of the bend in the road. 

We’re told we 
gobble, growl, grunt 
and ro sham (rain)beau 
on authority of mercies new 
and those that be. 

We are an aubade to broken power 
and other trips not worth taking. 

The tin man’s got a plan and 
here is what we know: 
how to hold the world more 
(happily, ever) 
how to get away with murmur 
what to do when the world’s too loud, and lousy
that this poem is unpunctual at best 
that Cinderella smells a rat and 
Wilding Wood is not a waiting room. 

We wish 
(for the love of this poem) 
we could ask and answer Alice
about her abundance. 

This is just to say we’re still talking 
about those damn plums 
about the significance of sizable dragons 
about that time the supervillains stopped by
about study hall & (sewing our) oats
about Tuesday Night, 1991 
(the night she finally almost left)
about the things they carried, bereft: 
1 poem stitched in sidewalk chalk 
1 Boogey Man Plan 
1 sticky poem 

scented ink and silence. 

We are algorithmic experts on 
withholding info from a distant sun 
(carry the 1.) 

Hey, it’s laundry day. 
Let them eat poems. 

In April, we poem. And sometimes we remix.

This entry was posted in April PAD 2022 and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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