poetry

10/20/17

And when what I say is met by incomprehension, and most of what I say is, my spirit dies. Over and over again it dies, and I smile and I sigh and I shrug, and when I am on the night bus going home the blue light sinks into my skin and the stench of my own decay stings my eyes. Because there is no one to match my strange. Because you read my diary and you say, “this is a story about magic realism.” Because I get along fine with everyone because I’m a Gemini and we hide the parts of ourselves that are incompatible and we have two heads and one laughs while the other cries. Because I don’t believe in astrology but I slept with an agate under my pillow. And I dreamt a way out but I have forgotten it. I have forgotten what I meant to say when I said:

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The Cold, This Year

my sweetheart is the leaf-dust in my shoe,

with every step \grinding/ the road

fresh with tar, I’ll leave the bottoms of

my feet, marked

 

we both know trees are lighter

without their leaves

 

my hair auburn I follow

embers of the sun, leave my

body, white bark, cracking

beneath the clear blue sky

 

this year I’m flying too

Fist Full of Rocks

the person I love most in the world stands in front of me and I think to shake their hand and I think this is my only chance and I hold out my hand to the one I love and my hand is full of rocks and I stand there with my arm out and my hand is full of rocks and I think to shake their hand I think my only chance my hands are full of rocks the one I love the most has gone away my hand is full of rocks

Oct. 26

The lake was / for the first time in months / a mirror / It was like ice after the first lick / When you take it out of your mouth and put it in your palm / and it’s like you can see right through it / like glass / but there’s only more clear / clear opening to clear / and the sky on its surface / the sun still busy threading light into the clouds / I could see Dali’s elephants / faint in the distance / moving so slowly / I hold this in my heart.

A Poem, I Guess

hjbhvjhv

I wish I was a black wolf that could turn into mist.

I wish I was running through the woods and into the lake.

I wish I was diving, blue back to blue.

And everyone would poke their heads out and say comeback!

And everyone would be so mad.

And I would run and I would run and I would not understand them anyway.

I would just be a wolf in the woods.

Gone to mist.

Royal Fowl

The golden eagle swoops down and grabs me by its talons and I am the eagle and I am taking a nose dive but I bounce up, right before impact, I bounce up and I soar higher than I’ve ever gone. And this continues—with so much strength the air is sliced open by my beak—diving/bouncing to infinity, like a heart going into frenzy, forever.