Each month, write a new collection.
Without a sighGive me a butterfly fluttering through the skyGive me the last white rhinoGive me the rain forest without a sighGive me the tree froggive me the playful otter, give me cleanoceans, land and air and clean waterGive me trees and animals I don't want to die or leavewithout a radical solutionSomething to believeStop pollutionStop the killingStop the madness nowBefore we stop livingto matter in this world somehowGive me politicians who seem to care if they liveWithout greed and corruption with warsand the room to forgiveI want to have it allan ocean teeming with fishIf this is acting selfish then Let it be my final wishLet me have global warmingstop in it's tracksLet it be a noble warningWe are all in thisand for that
Pinkies in the WoodpileTiny squeakscoming from the woodpileI go to investigate...three pinkies!Race insideI need to get a shoeboxbut when I return...no pinkies!Nothing leftin the safety of the woodpileexcept blood and a tail...dead pinkies!Very suspiciousif the hunter was near the woodpileI know just what happened to...my pinkies!
oh i like this!
Nice one Molly!
What lies beneath is weeds — they Hide underneath the healthy growthAnd at first promise leafy variance, then they growWeird stalky flower shoots that dry outAlmost instantly or worse they push out prettyLittle green stars but in the center are seeds of doomThat disperse when you pull them, and they become huge vines that choke everything—But wait — says my husband what’s the differenceBetween a weed and a plant? I don’t know I sayI think that plants aren’t invasive and weeds are…Oh says my husband sort of like us in Iraq andAfghanistan. We’re the weeds — invasive and we Hide underneath saying “we just want to help youAnd then…. We don’t.”I put on my gloves and get out the hoe while he talks because this is getting abstractAnd the fact is there’s a lot of gardening to do so I go Out and do it, but then I get Stumped right out in the front where the sewer line is. Is that new greenThing a weed or a tiny pine tree? I kneel on the groundSquinting waiting for the thing to grow and give meAn organic clear answer that isn’t a mistakethat ends up spreading more tiny errors that killThe whole living place.
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I love how Larry makes us think.
I love the notion of a weed as something that produces tiny errors. We hate weeds because they persist, don't easily die, like finicky roses or hostas which are devoured like dessert by slugs. Maybe we are jealous of them and thus why we work so hard to eradicate them.
I love the turn this takes in the middle.
the distantundercurrentof the soulthe essenceof who I ampeeking from below
i like these brief and spare pieces that you're doing.
Thank you Stephanie. For some reason this month is more challenging. After I get over the frustration I'm thankful that it stops being too easy.
Wow, you took that in a completely different direction!
You know that voice that tells you the truth about somebody but you don't want to hear it.When your heart murmursvto your heart but you cannot bear that to be reality.So you ignore itAnd ignore it.While entertaining the ideas you want to think about And entertain them...Entertaining yourself.At these moments we may be seeing the caves inside ourselvesAnd the caves inside others, possibly.