what my legs are supposed
to feel like, now they weigh
me down with sandbags…
Category Archive: Free Form
winds smooth
over wood, glossy
surfaces, lift…
take the cloud into your hands,
squeeze out the sugar,
squeeze out the air…
I hear
my words swirl
into the air…
the eyebrows and the eyelashes
are out of order,
the moon is pock-marked,
I’m standing on a tilting plane…
one plus one is blood
and one minus one is…
it’s so loud, I can’t hear everything
at once, the yellow is thrumming, insisting…
skin crawls,
they say,
but to me it is the brush of insect wings….
Forgot what I was doing
it was
or was not sleeping…
my shoe squished down
on something in the parking lot…
Daily Poets 