a re-post from July 13th based on a request from Ray Sweatman who actually reads what I write. Holy shit, who knew? Ray writes some great poetry over at YouLiveYourLifeAsIfItsReal, which I think is the longest blog name I've ever come across.
And Dean, I hear you too. Somehow a more daunting task. But I'm almost up for it. Soon.
now...
jenna at four
she tells me,
look at that plastic bag
I see faces in it
do you see them?
she tells me,
I hear TV when it's not on
I hear it in my head
do you hear it?
she asks me,
are the bumps
on the road
giant worms
underneath?
she tells me,
I don't want a baby
when i grow up:
how do I not
have a baby?
she tells me,
five teddy bears
flew across my ceiling
in the nightime,
I wanted you
to see them
but you were sleeping.
her mood spikes
and falls with the wind
submits only
to thunder
she tells me,
oh no
I made the storms
come again.
she fills my soul
then wrecks me,
she dances
light and fierce.
