(2015)
When I think of my mom I think of malt o meal muffins When I think of my dad Memories of a child Chasing us around the circle
My body is perfect —ly spotted The white spots I tell myself Are my Bambi spots
Long and slender Her every movement Deliberate and graceful Composed as She listens quietly
Pragmatic me Doesn’t like this girl You can’t depend on her Too complex to understand She cries at the worst times
I love to hear poetry read Rather than performed I love to hear each word Appreciated Rather than memorized
Love is sincere Sincerely Wanting to connect Love makes you crazy Insanity that makes you fly
An idea In my head Falls flat On paper Read it
To be genius means To not follow the rules You don’t have to I wish to be smart But not self-important
If food is poetry The flavors The smells Singing in harmony Is poetry food?
The E’s squeak by The I’s are too excited The U’s come after Q But the A’s and the O’s They flow
To be a true artist Must they be recluses Crazy mad or sick Or even better dead Show me a healthy artist
Restless As I lay in bed Trying to fall asleep These are my clues I might be low
Desperate for his attention Knowing it will drive him away Jealous of a game - how lame Choking self-esteem where I lay Desperate for his affection
Hillary’s beautiful Rose Bumpy’s favorite princess My mini-me, my little lion Cute button nose Framed by red hair
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray