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Collective Poem #3 - Tuscany 2016

Here's one of three poems we wrote this year, randomly, blindly, straight from our collective senses.  It makes "sense" to us, wink wink.


heady, reaching for heat

goddammit make me a gin & tonic please thank you

you shall never be taller than me

Applied on hair it would feel Cleopatra-like

A tightness confined it to its small circle, surrounded by white nothingness, but the slight shudder of its breathings longed for escape, for growth

The gift of being given that which I did not have to earn, did not have to endure in order to experience the reward

Dreaming of cold mangoes --

how smooth their skin, how alive

before they're blazing their quiet

And while I watch the sky it streaks, shrieks; illuminated from below, a jet's tail, a gold vapor journey

I can hear the bubbling water down a path away from the house, I hesitate for a moment then run, my Mom's call increasingly loud, trails off, unheeded.

Fish will find food and each other if we don't fill them with plastic.

I bit the shell, it gasped and my tongue melted.