all of my poems are naked new moons
swirling little eddies in the ocean
around my buoyed pelvis, and jutting hip
all of my poems are tasselled waves of
strolling minstrel music & balcony sounds
delivered intravenously into my one open ear
all of my poems want to touch the evening sky
as satin thigh, and this is also acceptable
all of my poems are marked from the start
with no sense of boundaries, bound in the dark
— a star shaped heart
30: NaPoWriMo and Real Toads
last one! off prompt, whatayagunnado?
without thinking (too much), i do it again
bring too many chocolates to the party
i don’t hold back for national diabetes
i can’t be responsible for what’s been done
i offer fruit punch (another sugar)
and immediately hate myself,
vow to unwrap one (or ten) evils intermittently
forever, or however long it takes to cure my disease
23: Real Toads inspiration from A Poet’s Poem
It’s getting easier in the light of the sun to follow that trail of crumbs to the unlit oven to tussle with the clear confusion of losing oneself, and to settle the score with witchy words until . . .
even those start to shine.
WRITE (WITHOUT LIMITS)
This weekend, Trifectra asked us to sum up our writing process with just three little words. They wanted dry wit, pathos or otherwise…I think I’ll go with the truth unpunctuated (because the truth is, I don’t know if the period should be inside or outside of the parenthesis) again…should I punctuate here?