A Fly Tattoo.

Cold knuckle days, where the thick fire glows. The whistle blows, the tea is ready.

The icicles glisten in the moon light glow, the geese dance atop the blue, blue pond.

Where branches quiver in the winter wind, the birds rest up all season long.

Long Nails.

Down the road

                The old man runs

                                Stories of nuns

                                                Stories of guns

                                                                The world is ugly

                                                                                Now hold your breath

                                                                                                Say a prayer for us

                                                                                                                Down the road

                                                                                                                                The old man still runs

j.

once i realized the dog could talk-
all went down the drain from this point on.
the dog can talk, the fish can walk, the baby can run.
the fog is thick, the dish is sick, the cow can open the door.
the hog is hot, squish the fish between his toes, look for the full moon.

can't put my finger on it- just yet. 

here we go again feeling like a different me.
the floor seems the same from here- but
something has changed. maybe the way the
wind blows, the way the trees shake.
something is different here. not all things
are the same. the way the wheels roll
backwards or the moonlight against the
clear goose pond. nothing but a fly moves.
something is different around here now.
i just haven't had the time to discover what.

half

i wake up feeling like a different kind of me.
objects seem smaller, the world seems bigger.
something here is different as i sip away my fears
in a hot lemon ginger tea. the world is different
behind green eyes, with nails and hammers. the
world seems brighter, happier.

Mini Monday Poem (MMP)

I am a flea, so free.

Riding on the backs of dogs and cats.

Oh, I am a flea, so free.

I am me, so free, so free.

Wings spread open, new things to see.

I am oh so free.

i know i'm a few days late but.....GOD DAMNNNNNNNN HOZIER