Tag: Women’s poetry

Soul Drunk

“Don’t wait” the first Invitation*, states.Subject and verb meantWhat I heard: it’s my turn.These wasted times,My healthy days numbered Counting crows in a line.Life and death married And birthed you together So don’t wait for Tonight or for daylight When winds kick up a messOf better yesterdays.Sour mash in a dirty glass Ice diluting the

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The Voyage of May Flowers

Pulling from the highest shelf (Hoping no one noticed) A book labeled too provocative to leave behind:“Dead & Pretty”How they once sipped water through stems From beneath the clean garden soil.I sit on oak old chairs at Along library table with hearts carved by keys Holding initials of what love leaves Turning pages of pressed

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Masked Avengers

Cleaved cleft chins, white teeth, braces, pink watermelon lipgloss, and beards all seem ridiculous these days. Behind a mask there’s no way to shine a smile of gratitude to a shop clerk or for someone’s kindness in holding open a door. We look plastic in polarized soundless shock. The cranes fly overhead in t-formations migrating

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