Is it the cycle I’m in now, can you tell, abacus eyes? I journey through a territory that I half know, half intimate - an insect on a spider’s brocade. Sacjawea traveled her dreamscape with Lewis and Clark. Knowing the land like a song of currents and rifts she took them...
Posts Tagged ‘ poetry ’
a part of Lena’s kaddish
Is that why we leave stones at the grave - to give weight to our memories and hold down the love that lingers through time and mistakes? There is a river in Yakutia with her name. In the winter it is a road; so people are not isolated by the season. And they are...
one of those streets
One of those streets for the young woman killed in Newark the other day because she loved another woman I was going to say this was one of those streets. Walkin’, talkin’, takin’ down the beat. It’s just that, I was a young girl there once too. Shopped on the weekends, pizza...
A wing, a bone
Is it the cycle I’m in now, can you tell, abacus eyes? I journey through a territory that I half know, half intimate - an insect on a spider’s brocade. Sacjawea traveled her dreamscape with Lewis and Clark. Knowing the land like a song of currents and rifts she took them...