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There are no right answers.
The sky rejects the birds, turns them
over to gravity,
embedding them in the concrete and dirt.
The grit refuses to become a pearl,
just as the wound refuses to heal
and the flesh eats itself.
The market sees a sudden spike in
sales of Champagne and cyanide.
Coordinated efforts seek and fail
to curtail the rising tide of violence
in the nation's dreaming.
You realise that this crude, barbaric language
that you can't understand
is your own.
Beauty glitches and pixelates.
Frightened, furtive confessions of love
are unheard over proud, visceral
proclamations of hate.
Tongues divorce mouths.
Every now and then, a voice
inside your head says,
'Thud.'
The measures of sanity become
more quantifiable and
totally arbitrary.
The horizon
tightens
like
a noose.

It doesn't matter if this is wrong.
There are no right answers.
Spoken Word Video: https://youtu.be/wGxRvuMWCig
I watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
The Earth is the greatest poet I know.
I pluck at her expression
every so often
merely attempting
to translate her lyrics
into something,
just something
we can all feel and understand
My salutes to you, Earth.
 Feb 2017 Kaila Sullivan
Gidgette
I was never a rose,
But green
Not a chrysanthemum,
Nor an orchid
Something cut,
Walked upon
And yet,
You were the dew
And kissed me,
With a thousand moist kisses
Everynight,
Making me sparkle
In the sunrise
Well, I didnt even know this was chosen as the daily till just a second ago. Thank you all so very much!
 Feb 2017 Kaila Sullivan
martin
morphine took charge
night came on
and turned into mourning
I had my fingers on a string
And only I could see
The pleasant sound that I could bring
A note of symphony.
The fond caress of vibration
On the forgotten hand
Evokes in me such elation
I fly above my land.
its magical,
how black stains,
transform in small galaxies
in our body,
and make everything stop to seem
like an bruise,
in our soul.
how can a black stain,
be so beautiful?
-d.a
A is for atom
Rotten to the core
Melting down
below the ground
just outside the door
Where presidents and statesman
continue to play
with hot core rods
in a box of sand
forgetting where they've buried them
From Kazakhstan to New York
they walk away and wipe their hands

Now all young boys like hot apple pie
but uranium cake is hotter
and those who've tasted such elation
will tell you that it's nearly sinful
the way the warmth slowly infil-
-trates you to the bone

Hear! Hear! A noble cheer
for the best warm dish
served in years...
Soviet meltdown in hot sause

There's a piece for brother and sister and you
There's a piece for mom and dad
who chatter in the parlour
like a geiger counter going mad

Now the nuclear family
eats plutonium pie
and triple scoop reactor splits
melt and drip
from every bodies spoon
Cheer noble! Good men! Cheer noble!
Please stand tall solicit applause
Cheer noble!!
You'll get your rewards
and your just deserts
with a noble cheer
CANDU!!!

Roosty
I wrote this three days after the disaster and also here in Canada our nuclear reactors are Candu reactors
 Feb 2017 Kaila Sullivan
Max Vale
Breathe me in like a vapor,
Let me embrace you in my warmth.
Carry me in your pocket for later,
I'll be there to warm you in storms.
I thought that writing
had abandoned me;
left me forever
like a lover
in an unrequited union.

I spent evenings waiting for
it to come back,
for words to stumble into me
at the grocery store-

but alas I waited 14 long months
and I was still alone,
as I started thinking
I had found other pastimes
and met other interests.

But when the passionate
ebb and flow of words
finally returned,
I realised this old flame and I
have unwritten business to finish.
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