the world is not enough, the world is not enough
says a dull woman
throwing to the wind
her plastic stuff.

I cringe to think
that my kids won't know
of the Rhino's
it'll be in the textbooks near the Dino's

and Mermaids.

Suggests
There were 24 others

And here we land
Utopia. The Christmas number.

Built in with each other
Boxed-in:
We've multiplied.

A virus destroys a host cell
By replicating itself
So so many times over
That the Cell expands to
Maximum capacity
Then bursts.

I've been reassured that that
Won't happen
In number 25.

beluga whales surfaced, floating ghostly white
ferocious tides ripped, sands sinking

cowslip tripped the cloud's crashing sky
sunbursts cracked storm walls, with fire yellow light

rain far-off sheeted, poured - hillsides weeping
fireweed bowed, bent heavily sleeping

the rutted road curved swerving narrowly upward
leading me to the sweet summer of Girdwood

I must have been missing something
Without realising
Scares me a bit
How much I think about you now
How I would miss you if you were gone
I'd be ok, I'd be fine
Go back to like before
Tickedy boo
Without you

But I would feel a loss
I'm not the only one to feel this way
I think you feel it too
I'm surprised
I have become a partial prisoner
Before my very eyes
A willing hostage
Going for a ride

A blank canvas
waiting to be painted,
waiting to turn into
the ocean
with gentle waves
slicing deeply
into the slowly falling sunbeams.

It waits
to become
the jagged edge
of the highest mountain imagined by its evil creator.
Vicious trees budding
giving birth to more complex ideas,
that will soon be on their own.

It waits
to evolve
into a mama holding her baby in her arms
in the rocking chair
in the front room
with a look
as if she'll always remember,
always remember that tone
in her baby's bright blue eyes
that's whispering "comfort"

It waits
to morph
into something it wants to accept,
something it wants to be,
something it wants to love.
It waits
for its future.

Innocence
Isn't something
A girl like me can ever have again.

Boys*
Are something
You *don't tell your mom about.

Hand holding,
Cigarette smoking,
Spiced gin drinking,
And bare flesh touching...
Y o u  h a d  m e.
(Only for 24 hours,
But that’s more than most get)

24 hour boyfriend,
The perfect relationship.
One complete day of undivided lust and adoration.
It almost felt like I loved you.
Sharing souls and secrets and your king sized bed,
I  h a d  y o u.
That loving gaze, the sweet whispers;
It made me sick

In an early morning, half-drunk haze,
Your skin wouldn’t let go of mine,
Your smile asked me to stay,
And your sleepy eyes told me you wanted more…
You whispered you loved me,
I clenched my eyelids shut and pretended to sleep.
I could never love you.

I’m sorry,
But your 24 hours is up.

A praying mantis presides
Over and over
A congregation of fools
Assuming a God-like position,
Predicting today, predicting forever.
He preaches, the act of holiness,
The act of reality,
Where smooching is divine,
A path to miracle.
But miracles do occur
The deaf became dumb,
The dumb became deaf,
The healthy became sick,
The sick became dead,
The dead….I wonder !