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Last week
I caught six fireflies in a jar
I put them in the microwave,
where they were promptly set ablaze,
and I said,
as they whirled around in the dead air,
“I guess fire flies.”
I’ve been waiting for the world to end since the day I was born.
When pressed for comment,
I respond by pushing the microphone
from my face
and abruptly ending
the interview.
I was told there were rules,
but I was also told I could be anything
I wanted to be,
and so far that hasn’t worked out for me.
I take 20 mg of fluoxetine every day
and six weeks later I can dream again.
Girl, it turns out I do have faith in medicine.
So tonight I’ll go to bed,
and tomorrow I’ll wake up
in another city
that I don’t want to be in,
and I’ll say,
“Resolved:
On balance,
I am a man of
chemicals and reactions,
of positives and negatives,
and while I may not know
where the **** I am headed,
it is certain that I will
end up there.”
 Jan 2013 Meaghan G
D.H. Lawrence
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
 Jan 2013 Meaghan G
liv hart
x
 Jan 2013 Meaghan G
Odi
They stuff cotton down your mouth
Because it’s the only thing that doesn't choke you
When they try to muffle your sounds out
But you scream with your eyes better than you
Ever did with words

It’s a sharp sound that hurts to look at
And you knew that contradictions were the best arguments
you said  “Arguments are the best way to show someone
How much you love them because
you are giving them your words
And that is the best thing to give.”  disagreement said “Or you could give em’
Some of your M&M;’s.”

They hung mosaics of your destruction on the walls and called it “Art”
So you punched a hole through your bathroom mirror and called it “Creation”
Spent the fourth day naming your shards “Zues” “Cordelia”. Saved the sharpest one
And called it “Helen”, said “Pain only ever hurts when its beautiful.” Disagreement said
“You’re a ****** up sadomasochistic *****”

On the fifth day you dreamt your father held you
Except it wasn't your father it was a ******* who found you
frozen to a street light
On the sixth day you called me and said: “I have a name for creation;
It’s destruction.”
On the seventh day they found you praying to the  images on a TV screen
Holding onto a mathematical calculation in your hand
Calling it the formula to happiness
The numbers spelled out




D   R  U  G  S
 Jan 2013 Meaghan G
Ugo
(the city had fought the fortnight before)
fire burned through the little skirts
and plastic lunch boxes
carrying the nourishment of our future
doctors and worldshakers—

                                 Future
tax paying Americans
And beacon of the nation.

Wide awake, in the thoughts of a light bulb,
(Where sidewalk stairs politic with the devil,)
A raindrop fell and whispered to the asphalt,
“Tell me what you know about happiness…”
And somewhere, in the middle of a pineapple parade,
A Pepsi can smiled and danced the night away with Nyquil labels.
S.H.E.S  
Vicki Soto
 Dec 2012 Meaghan G
Odi
I know someone who finds solace in ballet shoes
                A boy who strums his secrets to guitar strings
Someone that spends his waking moments with glazed red eyes
             As if facing this world cold turkey
                       Isn’t even an option.

For boys whose fingertips shake
                Like the burning end of a cigarette
And girls whose smiles resemble
Car crashes waiting to happen
A cacophony of shattered noises
             And those of us who feel guilty for the
                     mere act
                           Inhaling air
                        And exhaling poison
So we spend lifetimes holding our breaths

   Until we burn our lungs out trying
            To warm our hearts
            With something other than the fire
           That burns out in a smoky haze

Until our eyes become rivers,
flowing oceans
That cry out a thousand melted glaciers

Our tongues speak ruined languages
We read everything backwards
Curse in Latin
Make oaths in Russian
So whatever we say sounds beautiful.

So that our hands wont have to learn permanence,
affection
consolation.
three blue trucks with discolored passenger doors
three huge steps to kissing under floorboards
three slighted moves to embracing under street lights
three backwards motions to remembering our small fights

four eleven two thousand
and twelve

placing you on those
three shelves
when you die I'll get your ashes
I'll form bar graphs and pie charts
of how many times I made you laugh
when I helped you heal
how I made you feel

I could see when you were happiest
and when you were the saddest
I can see how much money you spent at Starbucks
and how many hours you worked
and how many miles were driven from our homes

how many times you left your things with  me
how many cds I listened to on my way to see you
how many haircuts you gave me
and how many poems I've written you
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