Firecrackers to frighten the animals.
Shadows of mountains run
On the surface of the fords.

Pulling up to the party
My car hums and dies
Just like as soon as we started
We were done
But even with all these people
Popping bottles and beer cans
I can't help but think of
How much I just wish you were here

One day you tell me that we can't talk
No more, no more
I am just asking you to go for a walk
But you said no more
I just don't get it, well maybe I do all too well
But without me there then I fear you will sell
Your heart, your raw beating heart
I just don't want you to sell yourself short

Now I know the truth is that you lie and deceive
Both your boyfriend and I are upset
But just know that I will be there when he leaves
Because you know he'll leave, so you say
So you keep talking to me
Just saving for that day
And you say that you love him
But you want me to stay
Lying to your friends
That you don't love me
But when ends reach the end
You know you do

Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build:  wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

                     Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image—shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.

The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.

The sore on my neck,
The mark that you left,
Not a thing that I regret.

i see us in shades of spring and autumn
in the  r        s    of earlgrey left on the
             i          g
                n  
bottom of chipped
mugs and tea glasses on antique wood tables
and wood floors
in the smoke of cigarettes french inhaled in the woods
in the smoke of summer fires
that burns my eyes
and in the red stains left of white shirts
and the (almost) ***** left the next day in asheville alley ways
i see us in water running over rocks
and in the moss growing on boulders
in the ice fractures of thin glass
and the steam
vapors of a
tea kettle
at 4 almost five almost sun
                                                u
                                                p
when you are going
to be too far                                        away
and I am
going to be
a little too far gone
in a bottle of wine
a little out of my head
a little mad
a little lost while you are loosing yourself

Tiny tears fall on the ground
As I tiptoe to my mother’s room
She holds me close to her chest
And smells of sweet perfume

I clutch her shirt with little hands
And speak of my troubling dream
She smiles down and comforts me
Quieting my sobs and childish screams

But those days have come to pass
I now must silence my own tears
I’ve kept my problems to myself
For the past seven years

Because my mother couldn’t handle
If I came climbing in her bed
With tears running down my face
And my sleeves soaked with red

i have a little kitten a fluffy little ball he sleeps in his basket against the bedroom wall
purring as he sleeps as peaceful as can be in his land of dreams with his life so free
such a lovely kitten a happy chap his he and i love him so and he belongs to me