039

039

Had I the fabric of the night, entwined with the constellation’s stars, the black and the purple and the grey night, of crabs and dogs and belts of stars; I would lay that cloth on the grass: so as we could lay on it together; but now we do not lay on just grass: for now it is the universe, together.     Inspired by Yeats: Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue…

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038

038

It’s been twenty days and in many ways I call that poetic justice. Because, though a poem will suffice, there are many more ways to conjure an audience who can ponder the wonders of life with me.   But all I can do right now is attempt to rhyme and sort through lettuce and thyme and not check my texts or my bookshelf (at least that’s what I tell myself).

037

037

I take too long to respond to most of my conversations mainly because I’m preoccupied with the constellations of freckles or hairs or stars that I can see from where I’m standing. And I put a nice cover on my keyboard only to take it off when I get bored of the marshmallow feel of my new keys. And I don’t wear anything above my knees but most people don’t notice. And I obsessively make spreadsheets for things that don’t…

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Holy

Holy

I want to be holy. But not in a holier-than-thou sort of way. I want to be just as holy as the next guy– but by guy I specifically mean someone who goes to church. Because all of the people I know who go to church are fun to hang out with. And yeah, I know people who don’t go to church who are also fun to be around, but there’s something about these church go-ers– some kind of halo, some kind of…

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Acrostic

Acrostic

Everyone said goodbye today. Velvet shoes and gowns were left behind but everyone kept memories with them. Even though it’s all over, is it ever really over? Remembering everything seems like it’s too much right now so maybe I’ll just let myself have random memories of today forever. Yesterday, I never thought today would come. Then it did. How? I– and the world– may never know. Nothing is for certain so time travel may be possible. Going away has never…

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036

036

Even when I told you I did not like the city, you did not believe me, because all the nitty-gritty of that city is what you like about it. You said that it’s pretty, and that if I had any pity left in me I would go and see this city of yours. So I go.

035

035

I stare at your backpack, hoping for change. It’s a strange feeling when that happens, when you know that someone will come back but they just haven’t. Not yet. No, but they might. I suppose they have to if they’re ever going to get work done. But do they even want to? Maybe they left their backpack alone because they knew what it was and what it meant: school commitment grades and they didn’t want any of that. Not yet, anyway. But some day…

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034

034

There is a cliche that would be easy to say: Reading is an adventure. But it’s so much more than a park tour or a fictional lecture. It’s swimming, it’s baseball, it’s an old oak, 30 feet tall that no one intends to cut down. It’s an orange feather, it’s curl-up blanket weather, it’s New York City downtown. Reading is broken chalk, a midnight walk, and a pair of sole-worn shoes, left over chip cheese dust, forgotten pizza crust– a…

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Museum Misunderstandings

Museum Misunderstandings

Standing in the Natural History museum, two people (Person A and Person B) are viewing different displays. Nearby, a large group of students are chattering, filling out papers for school, and pointing at different displays. A: Did you see that– B: Dinosaur? Yeah, there’re a lot. A: They’re a lot of what? B: A lot of them. A: I meant the whale. B: Which wall? A: There’s only one. B: How’s that possible? A: It was born, I guess. B:…

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Spring

Spring

I dress like it’s Spring every day. I dress in the anticipation of the flowers blooming and the sun staying up for a little bit too long. I would want everyone to dress this way, but at the same time, it feels like I’m a Spring flower in a world of black winterberries. I feel like I’m blooming in a world without water. I’ll be fine.

Everything

Everything

What if everything you’ve ever read was something that was secretly about you? Every news article, email, ad, all aiming towards you and intended to be about you. What if the person next to you, supposedly just typing on their keyboard, is writing about you, hoping that you’ll read it? What if I’m writing about you, hoping that you’ll accidentally look over my shoulder and notice? I’m just hoping that you’ll just look over and say, “Wow, what great writing!”…

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033

033

Below the universe, there is so much more to see.   But, alas, she lies on her back, her arms stretched, her dress a puddle of fabric. She’s trying to be someone she’s not: a persona too far-fetched.   She can not tell the constellations apart, but nonetheless gives stories to the stars she keeps in her mind and feels in her heart. She has thoughts, too, like what if the stars are just cars’   headlights? She does not…

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Night Swimmer

Night Swimmer

By now, I bet he’s dead. At least, I hope he’s dead. The man who seasoned my cups of tea with garlic and who left his paychecks at the piano– yeah, I hope he’s dead. I was getting sick of his knit white turtlenecks stained with what I hoped was ketchup and his little purple Fiat stained with the same color on the ceiling… But at that point, I think he was sick of it too. I hope he’s dead….

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Unfocus

Unfocus

No matter how much glass is in front of my face, it’s all still so unfocused. I’m an unframed, unglassed pair of eyes walking around a bunch of blobs. How many leaves are on that tree? Who knows? But light, that’s the true wonder. Small orbs of light that float in front of my face, like magic, like their own suns without galaxies to compliment them. Luckily, they have me. I watch them for hours before leaving, sitting on splintering wood…

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031

031

I see life in book endings. from sand beach weddings to dragon defeats, where not even fire can heat an emotion so hot as to have a clue about what it means. But in all honestly, I don’t believe in those book sales for new books. There are older ones, colder ones, sitting on the back of shelves. They’re only 25 cents inside your local bookstore where they hide the diamonds in the rough to see who’s tough enough to…

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Reach

Reach

I don’t usually question things. Usually. Because usually, I’m sitting at home. Alone. With my dishwasher screaming in one room and my washing machine thundering in the other. With the sunlight blinding me and my chair binding me, I have no reason to leave my computer screen for “the great outdoors”– what’s so great about it anyway? Just another high-res screen-saver with movingClouds.gif? Oh, and the sun coincides with the time. That’s nice. Not. Worth it, anyway. I can put…

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030

030

I don’t want you per se. Because each and every day you come back and talk about her. No, no, I don’t want you– I want the idea of you, and all your compassion. I’d like to fashion someone else out of the likes of you. Take your honesty and bravery, leave everything unsavory, and make a new person. One with less baggage and who’s less of a challenge to handle. That’s what I want exactly. Not you, per se, but someone…

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