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let it go — thesmashed word brokenopen vow orthe oath cracked lengthwise — let it go itwas sworn togo E. E. Cummings we smoosh them between our hungry fingers like chalk,smudge them to the sky. you and I, we’ve got them right were … Continue reading
We had a deal, you and I. I’d just lookup, and you’d bring the stars. No matter how far we’ve come, I can find my way home by those light-stung shards. But tonight you’ve got something darker in mind: Discombobulated me, left behind. I’m late to Lisa’s … Continue reading
It’s a shadowstage holding up the outside-sky,a trampoline bouncing laughter light, conversation dust. It’s a blank sheet waiting for my words, a sunshine-slatted hope. This smallbox universe of our own bright building, where I am both fan and sometimes-star. Mish has us writing object poems over at … Continue reading
She tastes the new year slowlypondering clouds on tongue sacred slices of sky, tabasco-tang of sun. ,The world’s got a way of craving falling-stars, symphony wishes. She swishes in a ninja star for good measure, a babble of brook, a dabble of moon. It’s Quadrille Monday … Continue reading
Crack open that bright blue dawn and watch the sun yawn and stretch again, begin to light our f(l)ight. We raise wings and sing, abide in deeper things than the morrows and sorrows of this place. This day, we find grace in the staying. :: it’s Quadrille … Continue reading
we outta here with our pens and our plans and our cramped-up hands and our scrib-bled dreams. these syllables are our last gasps and death-rattle rasps of lyric, lung and ripped-at-stanza seams. this means our scribbles are all scrabbled out, and there’s no doubt … Continue reading
this year’s gone all heavy again, lead-bellied belligerent bossypants and i long to tutu and tulle, rule the school with taffeta promises and stripey-socked glee. you see, we’ve got some giggles that need loosing. some bubbles that need blown to sky. some … Continue reading
we ate them all (the plums, not the dragons) so cold, just waiting there in the ice -box. we left none for the dragons (so hot).they’re left with nothing but wasted thought and witch-craft and hungry tums and fiery hums. :: a quick remix for poetic asides … Continue reading
we count them daily these gifts, these rifts that allow our worry to rest. we wrestle them into our pockets and let them over-flow. we know they heal fear and draw us nearer to true: we’re blessed. :: written for poetic asides November chapbook … Continue reading
and what’s next is breathingand believing the best and getting some rest and communing with sky and not asking why and holding on to Whoand breathing in Blue. :: written for poetic asides November chapbook challenge.