“... poetry is not a luxury. It is a vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives.” --Audre Lorde
Tuesday, January 07, 2014
if you could, the dishwasher. and then some, the snow. in any case, some cheese. on another hand, sitting stationary. in this case, hunger. I'll tell you what, scraping by. somehow soon, the dog. if you please, my finger. and then some, more blankets. if one might suggest, ham with the cheese.if you could, there is still light lingering above. if you will, the sharing of the laundry. I might add, I have been reading the poems. in this case, a degree of language. and then some, metaphor. if one might be so inclined, the continuous warming. in this case, a continuous freezing. one might suggest, more cleaning. one might suggest, fewer accidents. one might consider, an improved condition. in any case, a layering of cold. in every case, the accumulation. if you could, the litany of requests. if you might, the perseverance. I might add, the scales of the fish, shimmering, just before. one might suggest, cooking thoroughly. if you are inclined, the tender caress of buttons. if you please, domestic bliss. if you please, a consideration of geography. one might imagine, the topography of emotion. one might imagine, texture. one might encounter, exactly this moment.
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