The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink


feel me/read me/follow me

(The wind sweeps me…)

The wind sweeps me
off of my feet
I hear a car horn in the distance
You said you’d be here by now
I’m still waiting, hours have passed
The foul smell of urine, disgusts me
but not as much as your lateness

I look at my watch, the glass is foggy
My eyes are teary from the chill
Little children pass, their cheeks bright red
from playing
I smile, because they’re going somewhere
Then I frown, because I’m still waiting
on someone
…a stranger, who promised me love…

I’m leaving, heading home
Now unsure if I ever beleived in love
The feeling is there
…visible through the eyes
but not present, in the mind

written: November 4, 2006


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August 9,2010

so the other day to celebrate my
twenty-first birthday
I cooked a book
I cooked a book in soup
’til the flavor soaked the pages
and the little bits of herbs
changed certain words

so the other day to celebrate my
twenty-first birthday
I baked a few of my poems:
poems that I had written about love,
aging and sensuality (that I will never
really know)
I baked my poems
and I fucking burned them ’til they were
black like coal
and when I picked them up to give to you
they broke up into velvety ashes in my

written: August 12,2010

Filed under: Uncategorized