I-a
flailing in the figuring
on my own in the quiet
reaching for the buoys
I found I could float
but can’t really swim
II - segue
cutting chords
on glass tables
I consume the sings
a high slow and low
I-b
nevertheless in the stillness
of the quiet I calm
and inhale deep the bright
through eyes wide shut
where existing is a chore
the daily go-about devolves
make no sound
do not move
the fucking fuck
fuckers will notice
then you’ll get it…
something to really cry about
girl power: girl boss
the infantalization of women
just another self-societal imposition
of Wonder Woman Syndrome
some of us are done with it
walk softly, go easy on yourself
it’s okay, Ladies, to stop and take deep breaths
I
those bean shaped things
in my body, royally fucking-up
the rest just trying to get by
II
the exhaustive lull of napping
in cool rooms half lit, twice
sometime before noon
with thinks singed by fog
III
my longest love eluding
even the most creative ways
of consuming, unappealing
hunger unconsumed
when we love we see
with eyes wide open
light in cracks and crevices
through the quiet lifted
by the buoyancy of water
I’m not sure why I moved here
when it was the land there
that always calmed me
and water that renewed
perhaps I needed a walkabout
when suadade hit hard
and hindsight struck