It’s going nowhere right now, and I don’t know where it’s supposed to go
You in the depths of heaven and the eagle in power,
She sat down in the water, gasping at the wet on her skin —
and I only wish the heavens saw your beauty as we did,
a glint of golden light upon a tress
I created a found poem from things said at her funeral
That’s when I noticed the bright pink shoe peeking out from behind the bushes
Brother and sister Coyote, I basically embodied detachment
A trail led up the hill to stone steps, which she had not noticed before
Welcome, young wanderer
she jumped in the lake to sail with a drake
What does love look like? Long drives with no destination
kitty is a week’s holiday
I lied to you because kissing you was never an impulse:
a poisonous kiss — your voice is now a cutting violence
by memorizing and reciting “a drake is a male duck”
The thing about lemons is that they’re sour,
the venom of a hundred years rising like sap —
deep into damp furrows forgotten;
skies swirl and arc over a tombstone tree
We’re going to have a slam and the winner gets a pastry of her choice
Compiled by Dennis Clark
