I do not want: I do not need

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 cry about 

Yup

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 

bean shaped things

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 

the bouyancy of water

when we love we see

with eyes wide open 

light in cracks and crevices 

through the quiet lifted

by the buoyancy of water

Fahrenheit 105

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

a dog named Birdie

there’s a tiny red car driving 

back-n-forth in the square 

below my bedroom window 

where chirping echoes 

another on the sill lays still 

from heat or failure to fly

six am, the cacophony began

the tiny red car, chirping nonstop 

‘bought being woke by the car;

Sweetness sleeps on the pillow 

beside me, gently kicking in her dreaming