April 19, 2020

#GloPoWriMo #NaPoWriMo _________________ Day 19 we interrupt this regular broadcast ...

'birdgirl'
Michael Hutter ©
https://kunstkrake.wordpress.com/



we interrupt this regular broadcast to bring you breaking interludes 


what are the things we carry 
(home, hone, poem)

who bears witness 
how does the self shadow 
light from which it is born 

it was said 
of the now 
it began 
in earnest 
with magic beans 
and cows and 
that we shouldn't 
leave our houses 
yet here we are 
splatter pattern spreading 
unpaid vector agents 
myths and metals in our blood 
harmonies 
harp angel routines 
frequencies 
fed tower fie fife fiver geez us 
enslaved knees need 
prayers at the well 
momma we miss you, we miss you well 
oh momma you knew this day would come 

you would say 
go for it go for it well 
tell me 
sorrow in the faces 
three coins fountain rain 
sects, scholarly explaining g_d again 
yes momma, tell me pope on a rope 
i'm a dope bible hack story  
fed crack, instead o'breast milk 

that silk pursed gold holds power for only so long 
momma by the sea shore mountain bled-2-tine 
says a grain at a time, insists life will not be without death  
again even if, what you seek is shine pined on for an eternity 
there is certainty and then there is certainty of foolish pursuit 
the idea of grocery carting permanence while alive in boots 
this folly, the holly bramble berry bled map slow erode 
is one in which we die a thousand little ways before 
actual death arrives 

we went for a walk most mornings 
Moon wobble artists 
though we cannot dismiss 
the misty ones being best 
nest expressing our inner  
moist, most selves 

we said we were saint and sinner 
equally interchangeable 
with flippancy, rant, tender till 
sword cup pawn limber 
tidal spawn before dawn, we longed 
what we could ne'er quantify 

wee blue, we went thru scent mostly, through witch 
Antigone counts fire gulls and crows in the pines beginning to stir 
they're bare tucked 
to a low lamp slunk away sea, 
oh father oh Oedipus, 
give us another reason to be 
we, to a were aware wear 
is there to breathe, 
to find purpose 
to keep on 
keeping on 

much like billow spread 
clean sheets over waiting bed  
new day, marches in 
our pails, full of clams 
thoughts of lunch 
swim, our hands 
on occasion 
clasp 
each other's 
as well  
palming this 
momma, the 
 rain begins

EJR ©

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