Wrightings

 

  After (After Turning the Clocks Back by Jennifer Moxley ) I make a pallet bed of 12 milk crates, Cuddle with my giant yellow lab Listen to the traffic on the highway  ignore the rumble of my stomach A cockroach scrambles up the wall I squeeze my eyes closed, remember squeezing into a car with too many friends at lunch to go smoke and buy day old pastries to eat lunch in the park. Time ticked with the bend  of my old man’s back, crooked by years of heavy work and falling out of a deer stand and I knew life was never going to be easier

 Teachers Molding lives in knowledge and curiosity..  Will artificial intelligence replace us?  Not until emotions are no longer needed.

  Siblings  Nature has decided on states of being as three, solid liquid and gas space measured in length width and height while atoms are made of protons, neutrons, and electrons. From red, blue, and yellow all the hues are formed, and dinner is served with a knife fork and spoon, decisions made with rock, paper, scissor games show threes the magic number. There should always be three like the musketeers, one for all and all for one,  or the stooges, why I outa because every family needs an oldest, a middle and a baby.

 Ars Poetica Words matter,  words are matter  each letter formed  in atoms of thought a concept,                                                           an image, an idea brought forth  in a format that share is art. A live  painting sometimes watercolor others  times heavy oil often a tapestry of quilting  or a loom filled with yarn, rope, and plastic refuse.  Poetry is an art of ambiguity, the beauty of beats.  Announcing emotion from outrage to empathy.  Poetry evokes awareness.

 Metaphors and definitions Ancestors are dangerous. They share  their DNA strands that strangled weaker  links, a viper coiled to strike and constrictor  coiled around. Familiar landscapes not trees  but bushes rotting in a swamp. The fruit small  and imperfect. Long hair swinging in the lust  of msn, you are not their invitation, you are comfort  and ease of care. Brush and twist with no worries.  Strength is standing on the edge of the fifth story  school roof looking down at the parking lot below  thinking whose car would be crushed by the fall.  Being human on stage with an audience of five  hundred peer advocates listening to poetry  about homelessness beats the ancestral drum.  Lub dub, Lub dub, Lub, dub. And we are family.