Posts for June 7, 2021 (page 3)

her love was only skin deep
and tasted of candied orange and cinnamon

I wanted tugged heartstrings
and peppermint sticks
and so we parted
as snow fell from grey satin skies

Sitting alone
among the multitudes,
evening meditation
takes me surfing
cicada waves
on the crest 
of seasick
serenity.

A snake just popped a tomato,
pollacking his acidic lips,
belly twining the furry stems.
The hawk salivates dragonfly wings
over his upscale garden fare.

Come walk with me, little one so old. Hold

all the steps we take today deep inside

as curved in your cells as the trails we create. Waste 

all the time you want just looking at the trees’

branches & leaves waving in the wind. 

Press your palm into loam and tree bark. 

Let trees’ branches walk you higher/home.

Roam a little, no matter where. Worse 

things to be found. Yet just look. Feast

easily upon the quiet depth that stretches 

your senses deeper. Time 

I’m sure is on your side, my child.  

It must be that Venus is swiming with Saturn 
through the cornucopia of Capricorn
Here, you say, come here to look at the garden

I think you possess the secret arts
of loamy soil, you know its worth
and what its capable of bringing forth

I know how you fill the garden carts
with magical corn, African squash, dry legumes
and plants whose names I can only presume

In raised beds I’ve seen you grow the starts
that bring to life what’s long been fallow…
I love to watch the flow of the hoe handle

through your horny hands, like a crow
it seems a force that wants to caw and call  

Words that were once weights

Now talk like scissors 

Flapping freedom 

With every

Snip….

No attention

I’ve never done well left alone. 
I always putter about, itching for a schedule, but incapable of creating one. 
I eat cereal at nine pm after not being able to commit to any of the seven other meals I planned.
I begin seven tasks and leave them all unfinished because nothing felt right.
That’s how it’d always been, and I figured that’s how’d it would always be. 

And then you came along with a calendar for the fridge, one for the wall, and a shared one on our phone. 
You make weekly meal plans, sign up to be the snack mom, and pack more in a pool bag than I do for vacation. 
You have an a, b, and c plan, and you make room for me in all three. 

So now, when I’m alone for even a single night, 
It’s impossible to not feel every unplanned moment tick by. 
I can’t help but remember yesterday’s home cooked meal as I sit with my cereal.
I’m in front of the TV I never turned on because I couldn’t pick what to watch,
And I’m checking the calendar to see what we get to do tomorrow. 

I came from tall weeds
Trailer parks
Dirty street roads
Walks to the park
Hits and blood

Secondhand clothes
Chicken finger warm-up dinners
Bare feet
Old big wheels in the barn
Gardens
Lies
Lightning bugs and cold winters

Blankets on doors
No TV
No water
Bamboo fishing poles and satellite maneuvers
DVDs 
Paper-to-pen
Music from the radio
Locked aspirations
Old pear trees
And landlines

Shame with every move
Old farm houses
Concrete blocks
Trailers
And duplexes

Semis
Truckstop diners
Auctions
Hammers
Mudholes and
Woods

Packs of Wave Lights
Mountain Dew cans
And mold
Belts
Sticks
Bruises

I came from trauma
From bad situation to another bad situation
I came from dirt

two nights in a row
we love each other even if one of us falls asleep slow
i finally feel so much love you don’t need a lot to feel like it’s enough  watermelon watermelon the lady i sleep next to and i feel closer to her than ever

i love my friends again and again  and girls snore and boys want me to spoon them

my hiccups float up into my throat nothing but hiccups and joy  we all have the hiccups! we all drink water to drown them out

can’t stop hiccuping but my friends still love me they still hug me me

that’s the thing i dream of people right next to me  i dream of what’s going currently