daffodils bloomingreminds me of the paradethe sweeping valleygold, orange and cream daffodilsvast bumper with exhaust pipe
there is a babychicken named mechanicalthat won't stop eatingand chirps ecstatic for toucha very happy chicken
the Senate says shove itfinally something good afootour president shriekswe stand united, you bet,twenty billion bucks stripped out
I sit here thinkingall this energy expelledhonking and poundingpeople bustling businessnot stopping to say hello
easy to be sadeasy to forget and slipso many conflictsso many ways to stumblehere emotion is denied
evaluationsreconsidering optionscommunicatingplease manage your emotionsdon't tell me you're unhappy
kisses his foreheadgreasy lipstick compressionrouge stick depressionhis giddy comprehensionmakes for endless devotion
he transfers his thoughtswhat do you want to eat boythe boy simply stareshe does not know what to thinkand wouldn't know what to say
no inventoriesthey were lost to us long agoreduced to nothingcategorical sinningmade the world nearly extinct
She studies your facemathematics studies numbersI study hardshipthis is defining momentsindefinable shaping
I search for his nameI wonder if I'll be caughtso what if I amhe's the one who left my assI will kick his ugly face
I cut the flowersnap it in an old biblehear it crunch and breakmy selfish preservationthe memento of a death
the curtain is downone of those quick engage rodsflaps up from a pulland rolls tightly on itselftoday it will not roll up
motherfucking toothcracked bicuspid rotting stenchscreaming in my jawI floss, I scrub, I rinse twiceto no avail: root canal
it's said she is crazyhears voices, talks to herselfdisconnected lifeshe thinks Divinitythat she is touched by the gods
silver salt shakerblack plastic rimmed eye glassesa clean yellow cupa mirror reflecting youthese items are how I love
it smells of rosesyou pour it into your palma golden puddleand spread it across her backdevotion in ritual
noodles for breakfastand she wonders why she's sickbags under her eyesshe stands at the microwavewaiting for her ramen soup
we are two gerbilscontent in our wooden cagewe huddle nightlyand scurry through out the daya mammalian love fest
cherry blossoms burststartling pink in the graylike a sad song sunga sweet melody you knowan old gospel revival
she was three feet tallhair wild, shirt rumpled, wild eyed,dancing in circlesand giggling to beat allthe family pride and joy
as a girl of tenawkward and introvertedmusic was escapearpeggios and scalesfreedom in diatonics
manager's email:instructions on building trust,improving morale,spurring productivity,procedures for brain-washing.
she wakes up sweatingthinks i=mr2the meaning is losther whole night was twisting turnswake and see she has fallen
every day the samedark windows warm with sun lightrain waters the soilI trudge to work unhappywishing for more confidence
that's just what one getsask for advice and guess whateveryone has someand nobody can agreeso it is all counterpoint
the SO tells methat he didn't sleep last nightbut when I was uphe was eyes shut and snoringwho here is to be believed
demon Phalariswith his crafty designingtakes a bronze sculpturea shocking heated surprisesearing screaming wretched death
Dave philosophizedhe used to talk about timehow to make days longhow to gain control of lifehis girlfriend thought he was mad
the window is darkin fact, the whole world is darkit's four AM darkthe witching hour is overpeople will be waking up
Tanka Girl is a site dedicated to the Tanka Poetry form operated by Julie Mae Madsen: Blogger profile
