giddy girl


she’s all skunk
-drunk on poems
and the pleasures
of syn
-tax, flax
and sereni

g’day, girl,
we say, as we poem
away, closer
than ever to our
less measured,
treasured selves.

excuse us,
please, as we prose
-ceed. we have
un I
places to be.



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Stopped Completely Before He Turned 21


mind the silence.

He’s a genius, a
restless soul who still
astonishes the (m)asses
with significant ar(t)dent

makes the heart
grow fonder,
more solidly there
(with dark brown hair.)

Never mind
the immediate amp
-(m)utation of his
muse, the explosion
of surrealism in his goatee.

His conscience
has been scientifically

Caution when opening
the universe, y’all.


(Continents may have



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she’s feeling howlish

drunk on gin
(-sberg) and
a good standing
dose of Saat


-en, you can hear
her syllables



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mystery chick

Screenshot 2016-02-01 11.06.55


play magnetic poetry here

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corkboard poem


she’s been a
-broad, pass
-port in hand,
standing on a distant
shore. she’s pinned

and pined, postcards
of mind and heart
to distant shore.

she’s pushed and
and all but shushed
the voice that says
some things must
stay. she’s

likely now to un
-cork her bored,
and step
into the waves
and play.



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We are having yet another
industrial revolution,
the pollution of all things
sane, the
(turn, turn, turn)
of seasons slanted to
-ward (something off).

Scoff if you will, with
your smoke-filled lungs
and your unquiet voice
rising into all this haze.

If I’ve only got a few
days to go,
I’m gonna spend ’em
b   r   e   a   t   h   i   n   g.


Visual prompt over at The Mag. Check it out. 

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Unrhymed Minutes



Untimed, she chains herself in song
slips words to sky,
stills her heartbeat
to trebled moon.

Too soon, she finds the world bleeds by
and steals her breath;
her slanted sigh
a troubled pause.

Just cause for holding all things loose,
a quiet truce
with empty hands.
Blank page, she stands.

This is a variation of the “minute” poetry form, for Quickly.
Head over and check out the prompt. 

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