Sorry - It's May 1. And I can't even say I wrote it on April 30 and was just late posting it. I've decided I don't care.
May 1, 2014
I've come here to untie the ribbons
which knotted round my ribs
holding all the different lights
tight against my spine.
And now these lungs are sails
gasping and flapping with hot air
Pulling the ship out of port
into the morning light,
now that Orion, that winter watcher
is gone from the sky.
These boards are creaking,
my neck needs cracking.
My belly is rumbling, reaching,
out to the thing upon which
These fingers will find traction.
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Help fund my artistic journey through Northern Ireland where I will be researching and finishing my book, working title Dear Bird for 3-4 months. Learn more about my campaign and donate here. Thank you!
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