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All I’ve Ever Wanted was a more Forthright Existence

Just gimme the three magic cords.

Let me twist! 


Sunlight falling

                              over snow, now,

like a broken concerto

                              reeled in

               by a single progression.


The verve

                              of expression –

               beauty within.


Howling cull

                              of one’s true self


               at the doorway


               of the day…


We can always

watch the crows fly,

mine the world

through words,

the blue snow-sky.



                               what it’s like

                                                             to be a kid


We can:


               clap the wind! Clap! Clap! like a win

               like the distilled inner voice within

               the unknown CDs you ordered fifteen

               years ago.  And that brief relevance

               of the Ipod

               shuffle –


can I be honest?

I’m writing between


a crib

a changing table


and a diaper bag

on the door –


we can’t expect ‘em to get us,

if we don’t tell ‘em how we feel





Posted 01/24/19
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