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 Jan 2020 Wonderling
Leah
it is so funny and yet so sad
yet so foolish
we go to places we don't want to
we talk to people we prefer not to
we do things we will never want to
it is a comedy
it is a tragedy
you can call it the genocide of our generation
you can call it miserable living
but yet somehow it is still funny
In our imagination, we danced on Saturn's  rings,
swallowing stardust and all other galactic things,
creating galaxies with the colliding of our lips,
accompanied by the harmonies of our hips.

The twinkling stars beneath your feet caress you gently,
the moon bears witness to this moment and hums tenderly.
I watched as your body moved in such a hypnotic motion,
my love increased and so did my devotion.

The unique conversations between our souls transcends the greed of flesh,
I crave the music your lips play,
I resonate with the nuances in your breath.

You captured me like the moonlight was captured in your eyes.
One of my less haunting and beautiful poems. I feel as though there's something missing. Maybe the moon will tell me what it is tonight.
Now what? You might well

ask. After the halcyon days

in Florida? After the debt

of childbearing?  After the

years of budgets?  Now what?


Back in the cold, the kids

grown, the still unsettled

finances?  I'm old and faded.


What happens to this

country song that is 

my life?  I am going to 

dance.  Still hold out my 

card to you.


The dance we have left

is slower, but the music

still travels up my spine.

Yes that's what.  I 

save the last dance

for you. 


It's just the way I roll.


Caroline Shank

1.2.20
 Nov 2019 Wonderling
Silverflame
Why do you love me?
My face isn't pretty.
I'm not even smart.
I'm just a fool with a funny
laugh and a fragile heart.
He was older than me
by a good eight years

he felt worthy to give me life
advice

I agreed.
It’s my personal rule. Never turn away
from a tale. Listen to anything
and everyone when they’re willing to share.
Following the advice is another
matter
but listening to it I shall.

And I did
all ears

and he told me
“Never overdose on solitude, my boy. Never
overdose on solitude.
You might think it’s cool and all
to play the lone wolf character
and all that
but a time will come when you will
regret this deeply, oh so, so deeply.
You will regret it to suicide and beyond.
And the regret will set in gradually
with old age.
It always does.
When I was like you, in my twenties, I hated
the world and loved
spending time
with myself. It’s all I did
for so many years.
And look at me now...”

“You don’t look too bad,” I told him.

His smile was sad. “My boy, I’m ‘bout to
hang myself tonight, after this beer,
in my lonely room, with a power cord I fixed
to the ceiling. My most productive deed
in the past two years.”

I raised my beer. “Cheers.”

He didn’t hang himself that night.
Just got very drunk and
passed out on his ***** bed. It wasn’t
the first time he threatened to do it.
I knew he wouldn’t do it.

As long as I listen to his stories
he won’t do it

And I always listen.
He ate flowers.

this mentally challenged boy
from the countryside
I used to watch him
in the fields
when I visited my grandparents
as a kid
He was like an exotic thing
a wild beast chasing
static pray
They had no chance,
the flowers
he would assault them
with a killer's smile, frothing,
and would grab
and tear and rip them from
the stem and
would eat them

Nobody knew why
and the only explanation given
was that he was insane

then the men and women
who saw him would
scream at him
to stop and he would raise
his head and watch them
like a deer surprised by
headlights
Then he would spit the colorful
froth from his big mouth
and would run home
hopping and leaping like a horse
through the tall grass

He was mostly inoffensive,
this flower eating boy
but they all told me to stay away
from him and would
always chase him away when
he got too close

Time passed and I moved to the
city and went to school there
and stopped visiting the
countryside and its wonders
I got busy
and my busy life drove away the
magic and mystery of childhood

The flower eating boy is now but
a memory
neither good
nor bad
just strange, interesting

He doesn't eat flowers anymore
because he doesn't live in the
countryside anymore
No, from what I've heard
he's in some mental facility and it was
his last flowery meal that sent him there

I don't know,
maybe if they hanged signs with
"Don't wear flowers in your hair!"
around the village and the fields
that little girl would've been saved
and the village would still have its
magic beast.
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