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On average, odd years have been the best for me.
I’m at a point where everyone I meet looks like a version
of someone I already know.
Without fail, fall makes me nostalgic for things I’ve never experienced.
The sky is molting. I don’t know
if this is global warming or if the atmosphere is reconfiguring
itself to accommodate all the new bright suffering.
I am struck by an overwhelming need to go to Iceland.
Despite all awful variables, we are still full of ideas
as possible as unsexed fruit.
I was terribly sorry to be the one to explain to the first graders
the connection between the sunset and pollution.
On Venus you and I are not even a year old.
Then there were two skies.
The one we fly through and the one
we bury ourselves in.
I appreciate my wide beveled spatula which fulfills
the moment I realized I would grow up and own such things.
I am glad I do not yet want sexy bathroom accessories.
In the story we were together every time.
On his wedding day, the stone in his chest
not fully melted but enough.
Sometimes I feel like there are birds flying out of me.
Taken from: http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/fragments%20for%20the%20end%20of%20the%20year
“Sometimes I feel like there are birds flying out of me.”
(I love this poem and have used it with my poetry students.) Thank you.
Jilanne Hoffmann said:
When I became an orphan in November, the stone birds in my chest molted, reconfiguring themselves to accommodate all the sky’s suffering. Whatever you do, don’t tell the first graders. They must seek fall’s nostalgia and own beveled spatulas before facing the truth. And if this response reminds you of something or someone you already know, step out of the story, deny yourself Iceland, pluck another overwhelming desire from the tree, and measure your years via Mercury’s ellipse.
Happy New Year!
oh and by the way, it reminded me of “broken sky” movie (el cielo dividido), a beautiful mexican film. Thank you,
Beautiful fragments and true work of poetry. Breathtaking and profound as life and death. Makes me want to be true to myself. Kind of sad…Thank you anyway, I’ll be following you. Happy new year ! Cheers,
Truly exquisite net of interdimensional thoughts intricately orchestrated into leading to a wonderful final thought, literally forcing the reader to “enter” cell-by-cell your somehow extrapolated self, generously offered to all willing to experience the hatching out of birds, lonely birds…
Also beautiful imagery of the half-melted stone heart on only “his” wedding day…
Will be reading you…
My comment may sound a bit strange; it may as I’m editor for the English pages of the #1 Romanian culture site…
All my best for the new year!
Melissa Hassard said:
Reblogged this on objets d'vertu and commented:
Please check out The Poet’s Billow if you have not already. Love this.
Old years, new years. Time to step back and send your birds forward.
Ashana M said: