💾 Archived View for moldgold222.flounder.online › poetrymere.gmi captured on 2022-07-16 at 16:04:59. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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persecuted for harboring an upright piano, which is unallowed here (I let it go unasked)
i did not make the cats' wedding
they hold a grudge for only 7 minutes
but others, even friends, can hold them longer
at the moment, you can find me waving
upside down car in the ditch looks like a cicada or June bug over-turned, helpless, and still not knowing better
knowing it's okay now though
it's so green here, fiddle heads are beyond fiddling, I am beyond worrying
about what my landlord thinks
he will not pick me up or turn me over
I am starting again soon
daily I have unlimited love allowance
sometimes I don't spend it all
:(
mourning dove what makes you sing so sad
I hope you find Charlie, he's been shouting out for you
dance away when you fly for him
what is so profound I find you laughing
on the porch of the house on Lewis
your laughter is a hymn
I take in on repeat in my head
Big Head asks you today to meet your maker
that cat with his righteous paw shows a moth world's end
you take him or leave him
give me your nothing words
I want to write words like: "summer"
"the grayscale trees"
"ice freeze thick skin"
and tell you that if you were a cryptid you'd be a mermaid
and tell you that you can join me in the sky if you care
so many things have touched my age, I imagine in some more time none will be left sanct
I let the passion roll out
even when sometimes they are nothing words at all
sounds worse than it actually is
when you brick up a window
someone will always wish you hadn't
we looked up how much it would cost to tear out the plywood,
open the gap and fill it in with glass and sunlight
we looked up how many faces we'd be able to see pass by, how many birds would give their lives trying to cross it,
with just a cursory search we knew
how many stickers, wind chimes, and plants it would take to cover the view back up again.
glass isn't cheap, and there isn't yet a good calculator for the value of a sunny patch of floor big enough for a cat to stretch their legs out on.
after a meeting, some texts, and several sighs and furrowed hearts later, we decided
to put the thought off for tomorrow.
no grant writer would give us our light of day
so we made our own and it was fine.
all roofs become skylights eventually.
I drove along an earthbound milky way
like a length of wind-rippled silk
dust, daughter of drought stuck in my hair like innocent cargo
approaching the bottom of the valley I parked
stepped out and crouched real low,
nose to the sweet, dry grass
that became a womb around me
as a herd of deer grazed all around,
something unwitnessed and unsensed by me stirred the deer from their dreamy communion,
it was time for them to go onward
and when their footsteps shook the ground it was
aphrodesia among the brambles
i rose from my nest
and continued behind
I wandered through latticework causeways reaching to infinity
which is heaven
the immediate surroundings are sighing as
I'm walking through the part of town where the streets all feel
like they're in a dream
the surreal buildings cast fake walls, fake shadows
someone makes an illegal u-turn
hauntingly affirming the falseness of "rules"
I'm now thinking about all the things I pass and account for in the city daily
things i will not remember in 10 years probably
the crosswalk art downtown with the little blue red and yellow cartoon people crossing on the wrong side of each other,
the way the Des Moines river brings and relinquishes bits of wood and trash
(and geese)
in and out of town.
the corporate poster with the creepy boy face in the window on grand and 3rd
his wide toothy smile caught in frightening motion by a too-slow camera shutter
the baby powder movie set snow sticks to the bottoms of my boots like it did a year and a half ago when I was here before,
just a visitor.
it's just as grey as it was then, just as cold.
I'm trying not to be so dramatic as I was then.
I'm trying to
notice the drama, feel it all vibrating in my chest,
my heart,
and release it into the river, through a wet frozen sock.
the river takes up my spring fever, all my manic extremes, and relinquishes it
onto the next town, the next state,
& eventually the ocean
wave goodbye
earth angels take
quiet steps from the post office
passionate about their walks home
it is so easy
to get from there to here
i tricked myself into moving to a city
so i could teach myself how to leave a town
my friend ella, from town, told me that
the shortest day of the year, the solstice, was her favorite
because the sun had to keep coming back to us
longer and longer every day
the best place for a long, long day
is where i'm from
because at the end of it, the sun
tips her hat, her little halo,
and it spills the most cool-air, warm-breeze feeling
into the sky
that your orange-glow heart has ever felt
lone scientist suffers huge shallow blue
skyward for blue salvation,
sun on top
i want to make bucketloads of
colorless sun-baked dirt
//moldgold222.flounder.online/weekofpoemsjan10.gmi
carefree age of innocence
heading homeward
all these new ways
all four feet off the ground,
a fruitless search for a vanishing art –the "hidden years" unchronicled
"if you had binoculars," the waiter told me, "you could see crystal-clear sky,"
bringing home to us
unremitting beauty
the most authentic echo