what are simple joyswhen highs and lows are the sameno fighting no worries noconflict to resolve nothingbut sameness all around you
they say all is goodeconomic status quointerest rates are high,they say, unemployment lowbut all I know is hunger
Julie Andrews waitsarm slung over a fence railangle cut collara sidelong questioning lookand a smile that says, "Come here."
why is it like thisyou said life is foreverhigh clouds and your warmthbracing against my bodyI find that we will both die
a video gamefeaturing a baby sealkilling Inuitscrushing igloos and fightingfor the right to be a seal
only in, not out,nightly the window opensand the cat comes induring the day it is closedand the cat waits to go out
she's a musicianacoustic strapped on her backhead low and sulkingshe puts the rehearsed pose onhoping for discovery
exclude the uglythe form says with head held highhair pinned with a comba poem that knows the fashiondictates the way you live life
glistening food stuffrotating lazy-susanorexigenicbut you know it's a plasticdisplay designed in Japan
because minds are darkmusic makes a universeears connect to soulso concerts always start latebuilding drama in the night
approaching foot fallsher voice is a question marka form of statementlike a child, arms extendedpure joy and laughter spilling
delicate blue bushset in a green foil wrapperwide, splayed leaves reachingto an alien landscapea burnt umber gold hued world
a coven of kittiessleep at her stinky old feether clothes are furryshe used to go a' broomingnow she sleeps all the day through
unboiled tap watermisfortune or suicidethe composer diedhe snogged the wrong blokedecades of debate
we do not like youwe are above all that stuffwe push for the bestdo not come to us for helpno government assistance
Two lines cut the snowNothing is divisiblePaper Whites push throughAnd I think of god leaningSnorting us up his nostril
the traffic todayis terse, grid locked, traffic jammedeverywhere you gopeople drop like fliestires crushing bones
she is looking closetight focus, silent viewingshe twitches her footand you realize she iscompletely blotto
she could imaginethe watery swish of germsthe agitationas her clothes mingled with clothesriddled with hidden disease
if she were reallyand I mean really bummed outshe would go complainbut she finds the constructionclang and noise soothing whiteness
your hard drive is nowobsolete, reads the headlineworth less, breakable,slower than grandma's bread yeastslower than sleepy footfall.
Eyes over easyHair stuck up in the rearLips glued shut for healingYoung man rolls to the floor, grunts,And hauls him self to shower
sometimes we are oneother times we are pluralif everyone whofeels alone is alone thenI am singular
It must take much calmto survey a great canyonsee all that beautydecide to photograph itand actually capture truth
the dog spins and kickshe drops the ball at my feetI throw it for himan easy ecologywe both obey each other
she stands with her sheersevery year pruning awayher wrist watch is goldthe hedge branches drop, cut cleanand she finds satisfaction
Australian wildfireskill unnumbered Koalas"Australian wildfire"is also a seasoningused in soup and fried wonton
Seven Hundred bookspartners not considered kinshelves torn away from liveslives forced separate by the lawbooks tossed by technology
dolled up in Nepalshe is a living goddesshuman rights groups fighttradition is crumblingmodernization controls
so much time surfinglooking for a solutionall want a dream lifea life that means happinessa life that builds endless joy
Tanka Girl is a site dedicated to the Tanka Poetry form operated by Julie Mae Madsen: Blogger profile
