where the sky meets land + sea[ where the sky meets land and sea ]where the sky meets land + sea
once she led me to a grove where the weeping willows dance tossing their limp leafy limbs through the air like dreads on heads made of bark and wooden bone
then she led me to a beach where the ocean waters clash mountain waves like warriors rage smashing 'gainst the shoreline sands knocking down the seashell walls
last she led me to a cliff overlooking land and sea eagles' perch to scan the world feudal tides and reggae trees and wind as warcry or as song
a case of the grumpiesI found it in the attic buried under mountains of boxes and molehills of dust -a case of the grumpies
a chest named Hope filled with Pessimism and Despair. Timmy's little 7th grade love letter
fired the first sniper shot. At our age, how can we really know what love is? he pined
before dumping me for my best friend the following day. (So soap operatic!)
I sifted through scrap after scrap of my pre-teen poetry and several more scathing reject letters
from now insignificant others until at last I declared myself guilty of making be
seeking inspirationshe's been playing this game for centuries.seeking inspiration
to follow her rules you close your eyes and count back from five- hundred, but you know she's long gone before the first digit drifts from your open lips.
even if you send out a search squad of thousands,
with yelping bloodhounds tugging at taut leashes and sniffing for her savory scents of creativity, you can be certain she will conceal all of her tracks with clever distractions as if freshly fallen silver snow.
when she wants your inspiration she'll give it to you, &nbs
gummi bear death campYou lined them up on your tv tray, single-file, like cutout paper-people holding hands.gummi bear death camp
How could they be smiling at a time like this? Especially the reds, lying first in line to
await their grisly fates. As if that wasn't enough, you'd squeeze them, one-by-one, between
thumb and index finger, and then dangle them over your open mouth before dropping them in.
Between bites you told me you couldn't help yourself.
They were just too good, you said, somehow forming syllables
--
"he laughed a wicked laugh and said 'come here let me clip your wings'"
Previous PageNext Page