It's been months since I've last been
The water took the melody line
And destruction became the harmony
Leaving dissonance in its wake
And trees bent to play that
Minor tune
Mud rose inch after inch,
Outlining the beat of this
Soaked symphony
It's in duple meter
No scratch that, it was in triple,
The tempo was about 200 waves per minute
The screech of wood scraping
Wood had short solos
With arpeggios
And the sound of sirens and
Screaming crescendoed this
Soaked symphony
The different pitches were so ranged in tonality that people had
No chance to save the time
To pick up things they need
The splash splash splash was the
Ostenato in the background
Perhaps a pedal tone
And the drip drip drip
Made anyone who heard the piece shudder so violently
They were shivering and
Quivering
Like an arrow shot from a now
Thus the effect of the
Soaked symphony
Played in the orchestra pit of Lyons Colorado

I have big hair
Hair that looks like medusa
Using loreal.
I have hair that is a
Short version of Merida
But isn't as firey as the mad hatter's
Hair but is
Big enough to be called that type
No I didn't stick my finger
In a light socket today
It's just my hair
My
Big
Poofy
Hair
That seems untamable at the very least
An accomplishment for anyone
I will never control it
And yet it is almost a super power
To have untamable
Hair

My foot hurts
But it's also the rest of my body too
I dance my fingers over my arms
And I feel like I'm sticking
My whole arm in a light socket
I bend over and my
Back creaks like a door that needs
To be oiled
My toe hurts and in turn hurts my foot
And in turn hurts my body and in
Turn makes me tired.
So thanks foot
Thanks toe
Thanks me.

And it feels good to be breathing again
Because writing is breathing
And I feel the words flow
Through my lungs
Like water through gills.
And I breathe the language of words
Emotions, and passion.
And I try not to hold my breath.
But sometimes I hold it for days
At a time. And
Each time a little part if me
Wants to die
Because I don't realize I'm
Holding my breath.
So here's to breathing,
Raise your glass high.
And take a
Breath

Hearings somewhat talk about pools
And brown things at the bottom
Of a bucket
And pumps
And family plans and I'm standing here writing this poem
And wondering what I'm doing
She is my friend
But yet I've never felt stranger
Because to her family
I am a stranger

He asks and it's not like I can be rude
Because I'm not that
Type of person
But yet I'll act nice
Pretend to bat my eyes
Perhaps a wink thrown in there
For good measure
But none of the sincerity
Not from me.
The dinner is the dinner
The table the table
And the napkin is a napkin
Laying there by laying there
Only I lack sincerity
Dripping it you'd think i was
Mrs buttersworth
But he grins and believes
I'm the person I'm showing him
Which is really just smoke and screens
And pretty things,
Not the real girl,
The poet the crazy poet
With a heart brain mouth eyes ears
And made of flesh and bone
Not smoke.
I never knew smoke could be so attractive.

The time when your heart
Flutters like a bird
And you can't let it out of its cage
Because it won't survive.
And your palms drip with sweat,
Flowing water as if from the Nile
And you couldn't part them even if
You tried.
You eyes water and tear.
Yawning comes on like a spell
Of hallucination.
Your feet might behind tiny
Tap dances under your desk.
Your knuckles may be cracked
Your mind wanders, and if things
Get really bad, you start to doze off.

What causes these symptoms?
The most dreaded time of the year.
While it might not be cold or flu
Season, it most certainly is the
Season of
Test taking.
So cover your eyes,
Get some more sleep.
And pray that you don't catch it.