Posts for June 2, 2025 (page 7)

In the time it took to explain
to the Alabama-plated Uber driver
the location of my neighbor’s door
and to confirm the direction 
allowed by the street signs

The June sun had burned his white van 
so deep into my retinas
that roughly two minutes later 
I could still see it, in perfect detail
first in white, then in carmine

Complete with tire and
bumper cut-outs
three distinct windows, side mirrors
and a racing stripe.

On the sidewalk it appeared the same size 
it’s original had been from the street,
but somehow it shrank down
into my coffee when I went to drink.

I bumble around,
eyes red after a long sleep,
and begin to scream.

Yesterday KS had nothing to say and today is not any different. 
Just saying. 

was paved over the “good people”
& sure they are pissed

the branches of their lairs crowded
by highways that curve too close

their ring forts bulldozed
leaving sheep and crops to fate 

once cozy underground tunnels
out of plain sight

for 3000 years of safe keeping
now torn apart by tractors

like three-day-old bundt cakes
tossed aside by progress

& wouldn’t you know
“rare microclimates” started causing

sudden hailstorms sliding cars
off the blacktop & into the past

I’m living in a strawberry world
hands stained
answering questions as to origin, pick date, ripeness
I have sold, purchased, given away
eaten for breakfast, lunch, dessert
     a tiny season of my life before
the sweet juiciness is replaced with mid-June’s alternatives
vegetables, which will also bring joy
yet a different kind
substantial sure, but not as cheery
I enjoy offering the literal fruit of someones labor

breathed his last at three twenty-two
cool metal table and sterile walls forming his final resting place
blue crewneck sweatshirt hugging his visible ribs and spine
oblivious to circumstance but sensible of tear-stained faces
and the eyes of the beautiful boy who loved him in youth
now glazed over with sorrow.

“Sometimes I think I was born backwards.
You know, come out my mum the wrong way.”

Who is Effy Stonem? A
girl who rarely smiles, let alone
speaks
She’s mysterious, misunderstood
messy
A toxic girlfriend
and even worse
friend

Her semi-gothic looks,  mirror
Tracy Freeland from “Thirteen,”
Her reckless actions,  follow
those of Alaska from “Looking for Alaska.”
If you really want to understand
Her
simply listen
to Lana Del Rey’s “Carmen”

Because underneath her,  classic
smokey eye
icy exterior
is a teenage girl who
battles with herself
her mental health, dealing
with it
the best way she can

Effy’s character became something
many teens related to
at the time
adolescent battling a mental,  disorder
and not always
using the best tools

She was
far from perfect

She was
still loved, if not,  adored

She was
the, “It Girl”

Found Poem / From: Covington, Anne Harper. “Grunge and Gothic: The Art of Embodying Effy Stonem”. Strike Magazine. https://www.strikemagazines.com/blog-2-1/grunge-and-gothic-the-art-of-embodying-effy-stonem

Any feedback on this poem and what could strengthen it is appreciated!

Signed up while sober.

Stay silly? Be serious?

Won’t know ’till I write.

If I could stand in the midst
of it all
that is,

Be
Present
in the midst of my country,
my city, my neighborhood.
my home
my Skin

Be
Within
the universe of my psyche
and unfurl into the night skies,
navigate between constellations,
tumble safely through time,
run full speed through
the breadth of my imagination,
drink the waterfall of kisses
that comes from
embracing my ancestors
and

Be
Still
in the midst of all the sounds
entering my head over time,
catching every vibration from the air
hearing the music
and the songs
that carry me everywhere
and If I could do this

Be
Peaceful
in the midst of it all
and not see Earth as
a grave,
but rather
an avalanche of splendor

Then I might know
what it means to
Be
Alive

_________________________________________________________________________________

The line “avalanche of splendor’
comes from the poem “Appalachian Elegy” (Sections 1-6)
by Bell Hooks, which inspired me.

I don’t know if I have the wind in my hair,
or if my hair is in the wind, but I know
I’ve been cutting it close every time
the light turns yellow, the approximate color  

of my hair before it turned brown and then gray
as the elephant I remember being in another life,
or maybe I’m remembering being a snake or
a wall or someone with a very big nose,  

which I used to sniff the expired yogurt
in my fridge, which smelled okay to me,
but which I tossed out anyway, along with
my speeding tickets, which will surely  

catch up to me eventually, unless I expire first.