i’ve made it back to an
ancient anchor sunk so far into the ground
we don’t know how it got there.
it’s coming, hard to eat unnatural things.
but we could always ask.
im in my room and have
closed the door where everything
that stops poems comes from. the disturbance
of fabric that catches it and doesn’t let go.
unfocused i try to determine what is
going to repeat until i finally skin my
pet fear. why do i only love these few?
why is it my way to send out?
wild can save my liquid blood.
im asking. im pleading. let me
borrow your scissors, gods.
i can’t open myself and i’m
going bad in here. i look at these gleaners
to remember how rough it can be
as many ways as i can invent for my
heart to be revealed, that’s how many ways
i will beg. the need to write and sing a song
precedes the ability. i want to scream
until i believe that i know what i need.
im calling please answer. tie me to the anchor
buried such a long way. how did it get there.
she put seeds in tell me where it happened.
will you please get the thing to come about.
remember he said think hard to hear
the memories of others.
i believe there is unfair and division here.
some fish tooth that i have.
not found: the best way for my voice to work.
he said that spirits know us by our voice.
know me and find me. i want to be ready
to ask. i’m not ready to hold the stone but
i sure as fuck would because my friend said.
my life, dice in his hands.
i couldnt have started earlirer than i did start.
take me and my fingers i want to hear you
my helper come to the front and be with me
in my lostness. be with me in my illness and
be my healer. keep me alive i’m a child.