Okay - let’s push. It’s brittle outside, it’s a day dry as a carapace begging to split and fall away. Follow what rises out of the claustrophobic the rot of dark dreams; what feeds rootlets that push life into fresh buds that swell with a sweet tang that makes love to bees. Okay - blush at the newness, at the innocence that cleaves to this bawdy verve. Even when we try, there is no hiding what breaks open with each bloom - Each breath is a well spring. Today - I believe my shoulders can bear everything that wants a ride. . I believe I am the lake who carries flock after flock of geese, splashing down, dithering - to travel on, to stay around. I believe my spring tonic is spider bites and brown bats, blessed with fireflies, already out in March. Together we admire Mars among the poplars. I believe I well up in purple, yellow, green, softest blue - another chimera circulating with galaxies around this moo
Kinetic Poetry - Subject to change without warning.